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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408757">Just another Steve</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/exclamation/pseuds/exclamation'>exclamation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Manipulation, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slow Burn, learning to be a person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:13:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>93,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/exclamation/pseuds/exclamation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hydra worked out that they could manipulate the Winter Soldier more effectively if there were rewards as well as punishments, especially if those rewards were delivered by a blond man called Steve. Despite the large gaps in his memory, the Winter Soldier becomes aware that the more recent Steves are not the real Steve. The real Steve is long gone, replaced by a string of phonies. </p><p>He thinks this new Steve won't be any different from the others he vaguely remembers, but this new Steve doesn't seem to know the correct protocols. This new Steve has no clue what he's doing. It doesn't take the Winter Soldier long to realise that he doesn't want this Steve to be his handler, but he can't refuse his assigned handler, even if Sam would be much more effective.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Alexander Pierce, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>917</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>942</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story makes references to sexual abuse and manipulation, but there is no graphic rape. The warnings are there though because it does have a major impact on the plot and on Bucky as a character.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1951</p><p>The soldier lay on the table, straps keeping him from attempting to escape or to fight back. Not that he thought he could put up much of a fight. Every part of his body ached and his head throbbed with each beat of his heart. </p><p>He’d stopped reciting his name, rank, and serial number. They just hurt him worse if he even acknowledged he had a name. For a while, he’d tried keep up the recitation silently inside his head, but it only took one ill-timed mutter for them to bring the full weight of punishments down on him. They addressed him as soldier. If he acknowledged he had ever been called anything else, it would only hurt more. </p><p>There was movement off to one side but he didn’t turn his head. He didn’t need to see what new pain was heading his way. But then a face loomed into view above him, blond hair like a halo around his head. The soldier frowned up at him, trying to work out why this seemed familiar. His memories had been unreliable lately, full of holes, but there was something about this he knew. </p><p>“Hey. It’s me. It’s Steve. I’m going to get you out of here,” the man said gently, the tones American rather than German or Russian. </p><p>“Steve.” The name slurred off the soldier’s lips. That sounded familiar too and went with the blond hair and the smile, but there was something wrong about this picture. “I thought you were smaller.” </p><p>But Steve didn’t respond to that. He was already undoing the straps that held the soldier onto the table. </p><p>“I need you to come with me,” Steve said. “It’s important. Do you understand?” </p><p>The soldier nodded vaguely. If Steve said it was important then he would listen. He would try. He let Steve help him into a sitting position and then to his feet, the soldier needing to lean some of his weight on Steve to stay upright. That shouldn’t have been an option. Steve shouldn’t have been strong enough. The soldier blinked at Steve, trying to clear up the confusion in his head. </p><p>“Are we going home?” the soldier asked. </p><p>“Not right now.” Steve was already moving and the soldier followed along at his side. “There are some people I need you to cooperate with. It’s very important. If you don’t cooperate, they’ll hurt you and I don’t want to see you get hurt, but if you cooperate, they’ll let me stay with you for a bit and then I can make you feel good. Do you want that? Do you want me to stay with you?” </p><p>“Yes. Please stay.” </p><p>“Then cooperate. Do what they say and afterwards I’ll make you feel good.” </p><p>There was still fog inside the soldier’s head, making his thoughts slow and hazy, but if Steve wanted him to do this, he would do it. When Steve led him to a lab with scientists waiting, he nearly balked, but Steve was there at his side, talking gently, telling him he would make him feel good afterwards if he just cooperated. So the soldier cooperated. It was what Steve wanted. That meant it had to be okay. </p><p>The soldier sat in the chair and let them attach the machines to his head. Steve didn’t stay to watch because he didn’t want to see the soldier get hurt, but he was there afterwards to carry him away from the lab. He murmured soothing words about how good and how brave the soldier had been as he lay the soldier out on a bed. The bed was softer than anything the soldier had felt in a long time and Steve was there beside him, wrapping his arms around the soldier’s body, reaching down into his pants to stroke gently. </p><p>“This is your reward,” Steve told him. “You were so good, so now you get to feel good.” </p><p>There was something wrong about this. Steve had never touched him like this. </p><p>Steve had also never held him from behind like this. The soldier was supposed to hold Steve, to wrap his body around him to keep him warm. The soldier was supposed to be much larger than Steve. </p><p>“This isn’t right,” the soldier said. </p><p>“Of course it’s right. Don’t you trust me? Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” </p><p>Steve’s hand moved faster and the soldier let himself feel the first kind touch he’d experienced for a long time. He let himself enjoy his reward. </p><p>-----</p><p>1952</p><p>“It’ll be alright now,” Steve said as he bandaged the soldier’s arm, his touch soft and tender as no other touch in this place was. The soldier leaned into the warmth of him, glad he’d earned this moment of kindness, glad they’d let him see Steve today. He missed Steve when he wasn’t allowed to see him. </p><p>“We have to get out of here,” the soldier told Steve. “We have to escape. Go back home.” </p><p>“Oh, Soldier,” Steve said, looking so sadly at him it made the soldier’s heart break a little. “You know you’re not supposed to say things like that. You’re not supposed to think things like that.” </p><p>“There’s only us here now.” They were in the bedroom, they one they were allowed to use for their rewards when the soldier was good, when he endured what was done to him and passed all their tests. </p><p>“They’ll find out. They’ll always find out if you think things like that and then they’ll punish you. I won’t be able to stop them punishing you.” </p><p>Sure enough, the bedroom door opened and men came in. They dragged the soldier from Steve’s arms and hauled him back to the cell to administer punishment. </p><p>They didn’t let him go back to the bedroom afterwards. He hadn’t earned that, had forfeited the reward he’d earned earlier, but they did let Steve come to him in the cell, to reach through the bars and brush his hand over the soldier’s cheek, cold and clammy with the sweat of intense pain. </p><p>“Next time, don’t say things like that,” Steve told him. “Don’t think things like that. Just be good so I can look after you. I want to make you feel good, but I can only do that if you behave.” </p><p>-----</p><p>1953</p><p>Steve helped the soldier dress in combat gear and handed him a gun. There was a single bullet in the gun. The soldier didn’t let himself think about shooting himself with it because then Steve would be all alone and besides, Steve didn’t like seeing him hurt. If there were two bullets, the soldier might have considered shooting them both, but that was probably why there weren't two bullets. </p><p>"This is a very important mission, soldier," Steve said. "There is a prisoner who needs to be executed. You killed people for me before. One quick bullet to the head. If you do this for me, I can give you a reward." </p><p>Steve walked from the room and the soldier followed. They went to a grey concrete room in a base full of grey concrete rooms. This one was like many others the soldier had been in for tests or punishments. The brown patches of old blood staining the floor might have come from him. There were two guards in uniform waiting for them, stun batons in hand, ready to be used if the soldier stepped out of line. One of them sparked the end of his baton with a cruel grin, meeting the soldier's eyes as though in anticipation of causing him pain, but the soldier wouldn't do anything to earn punishment when Steve could see. The soldier stood in the middle of the room, gun in hand, as Steve gave the order to bring the prisoner in. </p><p>Two more guards brought in the prisoner, but the bound figure wasn't what the soldier had expected. A little girl, with tear-streaks down her face, sobbed into a gag as she was pushed to her knees in front of the soldier. </p><p>"Complete your mission," Steve told him. "Obey." </p><p>The soldier stared at the child in front of him. He didn't think his missions had ever involved killing children before. He didn't remember killing children. It certainly didn't feel right to kill children. </p><p>"One quick shot," Steve said. "That's all it will take. Then you get your reward." </p><p>This wasn't right. Steve would never ask him to kill a child. </p><p>The soldier barely remembered Steve before he'd started giving him his rewards in this place, barely remembered anything before this place, but he knew that fact with certainty. Steve would never want a child to die. </p><p>The man standing here now wasn't Steve. He was lying. The soldier had known something wasn't right, had felt the size of him in his arms and known it wasn't how it was supposed to be. Steve had been little and kind and would have tried to fight the guards to save the child even though he would never have stood a chance. The soldier should do what the real Steve would have wanted, not what the imposter Steve said. </p><p>"Soldier, obey!" Steve said. "Or I won't be able to stop them punishing you." </p><p>The soldier considered shooting him, but the imposter Steve was the only person he could remember treating him kindly. He didn't think he could use the bullet against him. He only had one bullet to use. </p><p>For a moment, he considered shooting himself, but then he raised the gun and fired, putting the bullet through the skull of the guard who had smirked at him earlier. </p><p>The other guards were on him in an instant, stun batons making contact with flesh until he screamed from the electricity shooting through his veins. </p><p>Steve didn't hurt the soldier, but he picked up the gun that had slipped from the soldier's fingers. He put another bullet in and fired once at the crying girl. </p><p>"You let me down, soldier," Steve said. </p><p>"You're not Steve," the soldier said. A baton was shoved into his armpit making his next words emerge as a scream, "You're not Steve!"</p><p>-----</p><p>1957</p><p>"We need to do another test on your arm," the doctor said. "If you cooperate this time, you can get a reward." He gestured and a guard came into the room, half dragging someone with him. This someone was small, skinny, with a mess of blond hair and a stain of a bruise on one cheek. The soldier frowned at him, like he had been shown an encrypted transmission to decode. There was something more here than the surface showed. </p><p>"Soldier," the skinny boy said, "if you give them what they need, they'll let me take care of you after. Otherwise, they'll punish us both. Just be good and we can take care of each other." </p><p>"Well, soldier," said the doctor. "Are you going to be good or does Steve here need a few more bruises?" </p><p>"Steve," the soldier murmured. He knew that name, though with his confused memory he couldn't have said where from. When he said it though, it conjured up an image of blond hair and blue eyes and cleaning blood from a split lip because Steve had been hurt again. He was supposed to stop Steve getting hurt. He knew that like he knew that disobedience meant pain. </p><p>"Please, be good for me," Steve said. </p><p>"I'll be good," the soldier said. And so he cooperated with the experiment, giving honest feedback about the sensations as they hooked the newest prototype up to the stump where his left arm had once been. He genuinely attempted to make the thing move according to their instructions. </p><p>By the time they were done, his head ached and half his body tingled unpleasantly from the feedback into his nervous system, but he had made the fingers twitch and the doctor had been happy. The doctor let Steve go back to the cell with the soldier. As they lay down together on the cold concrete, the soldier wrapped his arms around Steve to keep him from catching cold. </p><p>Steve worked a hand between their bodies. </p><p>"You did so well today," he said. "I'm going to make you feel good." </p><p>-----</p><p>1959</p><p>Steve was waiting for the Soldier when he returned from the mission. Steve didn't flinch from the blood as he accompanied the Soldier into the showers, washing him cleaning and then kneeling to give the Soldier his reward. The Soldier put a hand on Steve's shoulder and pushed him away. He wanted Steve's touch, his warmth, but he knew he didn't deserve it. </p><p>"I blew up the house," the Soldier said. </p><p>"You completed the mission. You did very well. Let me give you your reward." Steve reached out again, opening his mouth and leaning in, but the Soldier pushed him away again. He shook his head. </p><p>"There were kids in that house." </p><p>"You did what had to be done to complete the mission." </p><p>"But there were kids," the Soldier said. He had completed the mission because it was the mission, because otherwise there would be punishment, but he didn't deserve a reward. </p><p>"Just let me make you feel good," Steve said, and the Soldier knew this wasn't right. Steve wouldn't want to reward him for killing kids. </p><p>Another face flitted across the Soldier's unreliable memory, a face attached to a larger body but the same lie. The Soldier shoved Steve away, hard enough to send him skidding across the tiles and into the wall. </p><p>"You're not Steve," he said. </p><p>-----</p><p>1964</p><p>The Soldier frowned at the blond man in front of him. The man who had said he was called Steve</p><p>"I don't know you," the Soldier murmured. The name was familiar, but there was something wrong about the picture in front of him. This man wasn't familiar. Even with the gaps in the soldier's memories, he knew he didn't know this man. This man who now turned to a uniformed officer, question on his face. </p><p>"You've been in the ice for a long time, Soldier," the officer said. "Your last handler, your last Steve, was transferred. This is a new Steve. He's going to look after you now, to reward you when you do well. Do you understand?" </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>He understood. They wanted him to think that there was something special about this man. They gave him the name Steve to make the Soldier compliant, but it was just a name, just a sound used interchangeably about a succession of unfamiliar men. The name was a trick, to make the Soldier obey. He understood that properly now, seeing the brown roots beneath the man's blond hair, the unfamiliar curve of his jaw. </p><p>Steve was a lie. </p><p>-----</p><p>1988</p><p>The man in front of the Asset was blond and broad shouldered, and there was something familiar about him, despite the recent effects of the chair. The Asset watched him, waiting for orders or instructions. </p><p>"I'm your new handler," the man said. "If you obey me and do a good job, I can see that you're rewarded. If you disobey or fail, there will be punishment. Do you understand?" </p><p>"Yes, sir," the Asset said. There was always punishment for disobedience or failure. Reward was rarer, but still happened sometimes. A distant memory was like a shadow in the haze of his past. There had been a blond man who had shown him kindness, a blond man called Steve who was important. </p><p>"Are you Steve?" the Asset asked. </p><p>The man hesitated for a moment but then he said, "No. I'm Alex. If you're good for me, I'll let you call me by my name. There was a Steve who was your handler once, but you weren't good enough and he abandoned you. Steve is gone." </p><p>The Asset nodded. Steve being gone felt right. There hadn't been a Steve for a long time. There had been people who used that name, a succession of faces that blurred together, all claiming that name, but it was a lie. They had just pretended to be Steve because the real Steve wasn't there anymore. The Asset was glad Alex didn't lie to him. This was better than pretending. </p><p>Alex reached out an cupped the Asset's cheek, the hand surprisingly gentle as it caressed his skin. "Now, I want you to show me how obedient you can be. If you can stay completely quiet during this test, I can take care of you after and make you feel good. Now stand up." The Asset stood. "Stay perfectly still." </p><p>The Asset settled his weight to give himself a solid foundation as one of the guards grinned and raised a baton to strike him. </p><p>-----</p><p>1989</p><p>The Asset gave his mission report, including the name the primary target had called him. He could tell from the tension around the room that it wasn't good the target had called him that, but Alex asked him to continue with the report, and so the Asset told them about killing both targets and staging the deaths as a car accident. He reported the successful retrieval of the case. </p><p>"Did you feel anything about killing them?" Alex asked. </p><p>The question was confusing. "I felt it was my mission to kill them." </p><p>Alex smiled. "Very good. We will have to be careful about hiding your face if you're going to do more missions state-side, but you completed your mission exactly as asked. You can be rewarded." He turned to one of the guards, "Hose him down before you send him to my quarters. He stinks." </p><p>Alex wasn't as kind as Steve. The Asset had a vague memory of Steve coming with him to the showers, Steve washing the blood off him personally. But the Asset hadn't been good enough for Steve to want to keep him so now he had Alex, who wasn't quite as kind, but who still gave him rewards when he completed missions well. The Asset would have to try very hard to be good enough for Alex because he didn't want to lose the kindness Alex offered. </p><p>The Asset would do everything Alex asked because if Alex decided he didn't want him, there would be no one left who would be kind to him. </p><p>-----</p><p>2015</p><p>The Asset sat on the floor of the cell, the restraints around his arms sturdy enough that even his metal arm wasn't strong enough to break out of them. He suspected he'd broken a bone in his flesh arm in his earlier attempt to break free. His legs were unrestrained though, so he could use those to fight. </p><p>But what was the point of fighting? His former handler was dead and he'd been told by the man in the suit that he was being transferred, that he was being put under the care of someone else, a Captain Rogers. The transfer was as it should be. He needed to be assigned a new one to replace Alex. The Asset didn't expect to receive a handler who was as kind as Alex used to be in the early days, when he had given rewards more often than slaps and beatings. The Asset would accept the handler that was assigned because to do anything else was to invite punishment. To do anything at all except what was ordered was to invite punishment. </p><p>These people had worked for SHIELD and SHIELD was really HYDRA, so there wasn't much difference in belonging to them. The expectations and procedures would be much the same, though they might put different labels on things. The Asset had adjusted to different labels before, when they had moved him from Russia to America to work for Alex. </p><p>The cell door opened and a man walked in. The man from the helicarrier, tall and broad, with blond hair like a halo around his face. </p><p>"Hi, Bucky," the man said. The Asset had been the Soldier before he had been the Asset. He could adjust to being the Bucky now, if that was expected. </p><p>"Do you remember me?" the man asked. </p><p>"You wouldn't fight me on the helicarrier." </p><p>"That's right. I wouldn't fight you because you're my friend. I'm Steve." </p><p>So they were going with that lie again. The Asset's memory might be faulty, but he wasn't going to fall for the same trick yet another time. But if he said he knew it was a lie, he didn't know what punishment they would deal him. So he would pretend he accepted the lie and hope that this one would pretend to be kind for longer than Alex. Even if he would have preferred Alex. At least Alex didn't lie to him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Did your lawyer talk to you about what's going to happen?" the fake Steve asked. </p><p>"Yes." In case that was not enough, the Bucky added. "He said you and SHIELD would take custody of me." They had used the word custody instead of ownership, but that was just another label, easily adopted. </p><p>"That's right. You're in the Avengers Tower. I want to take you out of this cell and take you somewhere nicer," the new Steve said, "but I can only do it if you don't try to take the opportunity to hurt anyone, including yourself. Do you understand?" </p><p>The Bucky nodded. This new Steve was now his handler. If Bucky obeyed, there would be kind touches. There would be rewards. If he disobeyed, Steve would walk away and let others punish the Bucky. There was no point trying to fight. Trying to fight back just meant more punishment. The only way to avoid punishment was perfect obedience. </p><p>"Let me help you up," Steve said. He approached cautiously, eyes watching warily for any movement that could be the prelude to an attack, but Bucky had learned his lessons. Even with his malfunctioning memory, some lessons couldn't help but sink in. He let Steve put a hand on his arm and help lift him to his feet. He tried not to look at the bright smile that lit up Steve's face when he didn't try to fight. Bucky kept his eyes downcast and didn't see what that did to Steve's expression. </p><p>"We've got a room prepared for you," Steve said. "You'll have to stay there for now, but you'll be a lot more comfortable." </p><p>He kept his hand on Bucky's arm as they moved towards the door. Bucky wasn't sure if it was to use as a restraint in case he tried to flee or to remind him that gentle touches were an option if he cooperated. </p><p>The door opened as they approached with no action from Steve. Someone was probably watching them on cameras. They were likely under surveillance at all times. Steve was tense as they walked out into the hallway, but Bucky still didn't try to run. He didn't know the layout of this base, the number of guards, or anything about their armaments. The Soldier had been skilled in military strategy and a part of that skill involved gathering intelligence before performing any mission. Even if Bucky was going to risk fighting this lying Steve, he would wait until he had more information first. </p><p>So he meekly followed into an elevator and felt the drop in his stomach as they rose. Again, Steve didn't have to make any action or press any buttons to make the lift move where he obviously wanted it to go. Steve might be the only person he could see right now, but there would be others watching, ready to step in and hurt him the moment he did something wrong. Even if Steve didn't want to punish him himself, there would be punishments. There were always punishments. </p><p>The elevator opened directly into what appeared to be a spacious apartment. Large windows let bright sunlight into a huge living area furnished in soft couches and armchairs. A large TV occupied one wall and there was even an easel set up near the windows. </p><p>Steve led him into the middle of the wide space and unfastened the restraints from Bucky's arms. He still watched Bucky warily, but even if he didn’t know better than to fight against a handler, Bucky wasn't in an optimal physical condition to fight yet. His arm throbbed with pain and it would take some hours to heal, so he stood there meekly as Steve tossed the restraints aside. </p><p>"This is my apartment," Steve said. "You can stay here with me as long as you aren't a threat to yourself or others. You won't be able to leave the apartment unescorted, but you can have a look round. I don't mind you going anywhere in here. I'll show you the bedroom I've prepared for you, but if you prefer one of the other rooms, you can have that." </p><p>Steve showed Bucky through to a bedroom with a bed that could easily accommodate the both of them, despite Steve's broad physique. Bucky knew he hadn't done anything to earn a reward yet, but perhaps he was being shown the bedroom as an incentive. </p><p>"You've got your own bathroom through there," Steve gestured at a door, "if you want privacy, but there's another bathroom with a larger tub that you're welcome to use. There are clean clothes that should fit you. Why don't you get cleaned up while I prepare us some lunch?" </p><p>Steve gave him another smile and Bucky looked away. Steve left the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. Bucky wasn't sure if that was an order. Was this a test? Did Steve want him to use his initiative and shower without a direct order? Was he meant to interpret the question as an order? Or would he punish him for showering without instructions if he were to attempt it? Either way, there was the possibility of punishment. It was possible that Steve had put him in this situation specifically so that he could be punished no matter what he did. All Bucky knew about Steve so far was that he couldn't be trusted. </p><p>In the end, he decided that the safest option was to do nothing. Experience had taught him that doing something against his handler's wishes was worse than doing nothing in response to an unclear order. If the words had been meant as an order, Steve would clarify and then Bucky would know in future how he was expected to act. And hopefully Steve would learn to be clearer in his orders. </p><p>Bucky sank to his knees in the middle of the room and waited in motionless patience while he heard sounds of movement from beyond the bedroom door. </p><p>He let his body sink into the calm waiting he had perfected through nights spent in sniper perches waiting for a perfect shot, days spent in training, waiting for orders. There was a peace in stillness, a calmness that came through the lack of current pain, apart from the minor issue of the broken bone in his arm knitting itself back together. Bucky waited and even the fear of inevitable future pain slipped away. </p><p>There was a tap on the bedroom door. Bucky didn't know how long he had been waiting. It could have been minutes or a couple of hours, but probably not longer than that judging by the sensations of his body. The ache in his arm told him it hadn't been long enough for the bone to heal yet. </p><p>"Can I come in?" Steve called. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky answered, because Steve clearly could come in and Bucky hadn't done anything to impede the opening of the door. </p><p>The door opened and Steve walked in. He looked at Bucky, kneeling on the floor, and an expression of dismay filled his features. Bucky's heart pounded, certain from that expression that he'd done something wrong. </p><p>"You didn't want a shower?" Steve said. "Don't worry about it. You can always get clean later if you feel like it then. I've made some lunch. Are you hungry?" </p><p>Bucky considered the question. He had been enduring on low rations for some time due to the lack of contact with a handler, the lack of proper care. He could endure longer without food, but he knew that his combat efficiency had probably already dropped due to too many weeks on not enough calories. </p><p>"Sustenance advisable for full functioning," he said. </p><p>"Okay. I'll take that as a yes. Come on. Let me help you up." </p><p>Steve moved closer, holding out a hand. Bucky wasn't certain he wanted the touch of another liar, another false Steve, but that had been an order and orders were to be followed. So Bucky placed his metal hand in Steve's and let him help haul Bucky to his feet. </p><p>"You don't have to kneel," Steve said, as he showed the way through to a kitchen. "The furniture's here to be used and it will be much more comfortable." </p><p>He gestured to a chair beside the kitchen table. There were two places set at the table. The order wasn't direct, but it was implied. Bucky sat down at the place Steve had indicated. A part of him still expected punishment for this, but not directly from Steve. Steve would be all sad expressions and talking about how he didn't want to watch while he allowed other people to do the actual punishing. Bucky knew how this would work. </p><p>"I talked to a friend of mine," Steve said, "and he said that you seem malnourished, so he advised starting with simple foods and small portions. We'll see how this sits on your stomach and, if you manage it okay, you can have some more in a couple of hours." </p><p>There was a bowl of a clear broth in front of Bucky and a plate of bread. Matching dishes sat in front of Steve. Steve picked up his spoon and took a slurp of the soup. Bucky waited, wondering if Steve expected him to start eating or if this was another test. </p><p>"It's not exactly gourmet but it's not going to poison you," Steve said, with a smile that didn't make it to his eyes. Even the expression on his face was just another lie. "Go on and give it a try." </p><p>Bucky picked up the spoon and drank down a small mouthful. The liquid tasted good, not strong but with hints of something meaty and a trace of salt. He wasn't sure if the order was meant to indicate that he should try a little bit or that he was allowed to eat the whole meal. He suspected the latter but he wished Steve would be clearer. Handlers who gave imprecise orders inevitably ended up punishing, or demanding punishments even if they didn't do the punishing themselves. Sometimes the imprecise orders were deliberate traps. Sometimes they were just unclear by mistake, leading to misunderstandings. Either way, that lack of clarity would result in pain for the Asset. </p><p>Bucky weighed up his options and his desire for sustenance and he took another mouthful, watching Steve carefully. </p><p>"Eating slowly is probably sensible," Steve said. "If Bruce is right and you haven't had enough food for a while, then you don't want to shock your system with too much too quickly. Pacing yourself is probably a good idea." </p><p>It seemed Steve hadn't attributed the pause between mouthfuls to his own confusing lack of orders. That was probably for the best, as handlers who felt they were being blamed tended to turn that blame around and deal it out again. So Bucky paused and then took another mouthful of soup. After a few minutes, he tried a little bit of the bread, dunking it in the soup to moisten it when he saw Steve doing just that. </p><p>When the food was gone, Steve stood to clear away the dishes. </p><p>"What did you think?" Steve asked. </p><p>"Caloric levels insufficient for prolonged sustenance." </p><p>"If you're still hungry, you can have more later. You don't want to make yourself sick by overdoing it too soon. Give it an hour and then you can have something else. In the meantime, what do you want to do? You can take a shower. We could watch something on the TV. You could read a book. What do you want to do?" </p><p>Bucky was no used to having such broad options. He usually only got to choose his own actions when out on a mission or being specifically tested to see if he would perform the correct actions. He suspected this was the latter, to see if he would choose correctly. He had been given three options, one of which had been mentioned before. It seemed likely that Steve wanted him to choose the option of getting clean, but it could also be that he was meant to choose another option, one which wasn't on the list, like combat training. If he said training, he might be rewarded for demonstrating that he knew his purpose, or he might be punished for choosing an option that hadn't been authorised. </p><p>"A shower," he said at last, since he'd wondered earlier if Steve had intended that. </p><p>Steve gave him a little smile that didn't seem genuine. </p><p>"Alright," he said. "I showed you the bathroom." </p><p>Bucky thought of another Steve, of gentle hands under a spray of cold water. </p><p>"Are you going to wash me?" he asked. </p><p>Steve went slightly pink and looked away. </p><p>"I don't think that's necessary," he said. "I'm sure you can wash yourself." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He hadn't done anything to earn a reward yet. It was understandable he wasn't going to get a full reward, but he had hoped that perhaps Steve would allow him some gentle touches. Perhaps that would come later, if Bucky behaved. For now, Bucky stood and walked out of the kitchen and into the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. He stripped off the filthy clothes that he'd been wearing for several days and stepped into the shower. </p><p>The controls were different from those he was used to, with twisting knobs instead of a simple lever, but the mechanism seemed simple enough. He turned the knob and a cold spray rained down. The asset began to let the water soak his hair and skin, but after a few seconds, there was a change, the cold spray growing warmer. A few seconds after the spray had begun, the water was actually hot. </p><p>Bucky stepped out of the spray before the climbing temperature reached a point where it would do damage to his skin. Steam was filling the room from the temperature. Bucky stared at the shower, uncertain of what he was meant to do in these circumstances. </p><p>Perhaps he was expected to be scalded as a punishment for something. Bucky had no desire to let his body be damaged unnecessarily though. If this was a punishment, he would make sure by forcing Steve to acknowledge it. </p><p>Bucky walked from the bathroom. </p><p>"That was quick," Steve said, "is something... woah!" Steve turned away, staring up at the ceiling. "You couldn't have grabbed a towel?" </p><p>"There is a fault with the shower," Bucky said. </p><p>"Okay. I'll take a... take a look." </p><p>Steve skirted around Bucky, not looking at him as he passed. He hurried into the bathroom, where steam was filling the air like mist. </p><p>"It seems to be working to me," Steve said. "What's the problem?" </p><p>"The water is hot." </p><p>Steve reached out to stick a hand under the spray. Bucky almost leapt forward to protect him, since letting a handler get injured would be reason for punishment, but a part of him wanted Steve to pay for his lies so he forced himself to stand still. He'd warned Steve after all, which was what was expected. It would be Steve's fault if he didn't listen to the warning, but Steve didn't scream in pain. His skin didn't blister and redden. He frowned. </p><p>"If you think the water's too hot, you can adjust the temperature," Steve said. He turned one of the other knobs, this one with red and blue spots on it. "You can make the temperature whatever you want it to be." Steve looked at Bucky then, pain in his eyes that clearly wasn't coming from the water on his hand. "Do you not remember ever having a warm shower?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. He felt like he'd failed a test. </p><p>"I guess this is why you didn't want to shower earlier," Steve said, "but it's alright. You can have whatever temperature you want. I'll leave you to it." </p><p>He walked out of the room and Bucky returned to the shower. He placed his hand under the spray, which was a little warm to the touch but not as hot as it had been. It was pleasant, far pleasanter than the sting of a cold spray. He might not be rewarded by Steve yet, but he could experience this gentleness. It seemed this Steve was playing the same old role, offering moments of pleasantness to manipulate him. Bucky could enjoy the novelty of the warm water. It didn't mean he was letting Steve manipulate him. He wasn't going to believe the kindness was anything but a facade.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky took his time getting thoroughly clean before dressing in the clean clothes Steve had told him were available to him. He searched the drawers of the bedroom and found clothes in dark colours that were close-fitting but with enough stretch to them that they wouldn't impede his movement should he be required to fight. The colours were dull and unobtrusive should he be required to move in public without attracting attention. He checked the footwear options available to him and then put his combat boots back on. They appeared scruffy beside the newness of the other clothes, but they were the best option because the others available would provide little protection. </p><p>There was a hairbrush on the dresser. He hadn't been told to groom his hair, but leaving it tangled would draw attention. It was better to be neat enough to not be noticeable, and it was a reasonable assumption that the hairbrush had been left for his use, like the soaps in the bathroom. He would find out soon enough if he was to be punished for this. </p><p>He emerged from the bedroom to find Steve waiting on one of the couches in the living room. Steve looked up with another of the fake smiles. </p><p>"You look good, Buck," he said. "I know you said you were still hungry earlier. Are you feeling okay? Not nauseous at all?" </p><p>Bucky nodded to the first question and shook his head to the second. </p><p>"Good. Then it's probably okay for you to have a bit more to eat. How about some toast?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"Okay then." Steve returned to the kitchen and Bucky followed. Bucky watched as Steve pulled out pre-cut slices of bread and slotted them into a machine. </p><p>"At some point," Steve said, "Bruce would like to do some tests on your metabolism to see if it's anything like mine. He wants to see what effect the serum has had on your physiology, but there's no rush for any of that and if you don't feel comfortable with it, I can let him know. Another friend, Tony, he wants to take a look at your arm. I think he's mostly interested in seeing how the tech works, but he did bring up a good point about checking for trackers or remote controlled overrides. I did point out that if you did have trackers in your arm, it was unlikely that HYDRA would have let you wander about on your own for so long, but it can't hurt to be sure. You're safe while you're in the Tower but it would be good to let Tony double-check in case you need to leave. Not that there's any great rush on that either, because I don't anyone will be ready to let you go on a field trip any time soon." </p><p>Bucky wondered if Steve was just speaking to fill the silence because there seemed to be little point to the information he was putting across. If Steve wanted Bucky to submit to experimentation, it would be far simpler just to order him to do so. Far more efficient. </p><p>The bread slices popped out of the machine, now browned and crispy. Steve smeared them with butter and handed them over on a plate to Bucky. </p><p>"Are you eating?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"I suppose I could, if you don't want to eat alone. It wasn't a very big lunch after all. You, dig in. I'll have mine ready in a minute. Besides, you should probably keep eating slowly anyway, so I'll catch up." </p><p>Steve put some more bread slices in the machine. Bucky had his permission to eat so he sat and began working his way through the toast in small, careful bites, wary of the instruction to be slow, but also aware that Steve might take the food away at any minute. He doubted that would happen though, since Bucky needed more food to get back up to full strength and even Steve seemed to understand that. A starving assassin was a less effective assassin. </p><p>"So," Steve said, buttering his own slices of toast, "what do you want to do this afternoon?" </p><p>Bucky considered possible acceptable answers. He hadn't been given a list of things to choose from this time, which made things more difficult, but there were some actions which were usually deemed an acceptable expenditure of energy. </p><p>"Train," he said. </p><p>"Train?" Steve echoed. "What sort of training?" </p><p>"Physical training. I have been rationing my food supplies, which has necessitated a reduction in energy output. If you will be providing sufficient nutrition, I should resume standard levels of physical conditioning." </p><p>"You don't have to remain combat-ready," Steve said, "but I understand the need to be active. Since I got the serum, I start feeling frustrated if I don't exercise regularly. I'll have to check with Tony about letting us use the gym and there will probably be some restrictions." </p><p>Bucky didn't understand why there would be restrictions on his ability to train. He needed to remain in top physical shape in order to be as effective as possible on missions. He didn't argue though. Steve seemed accepting of his answer, which meant it was unlikely to result in punishment. He would have to be cautious of his flesh arm though, so that he didn't cause the break to form again while it was still healing. </p><p>Steve finished eating his toast while Bucky still had half a slice left because he'd been told to eat slowly. Steve stood up from the table with the words, "I'm going to call Tony," and walked into the other room. Bucky could hear Steve's half of the conversation easily enough but Steve was too far away for him to hear what the other person was saying. It seemed this Tony was talking more than he was listening because there were long pauses in Steve's side. </p><p>Steve said that Bucky wanted exercise. He tried to offering reassurance that Bucky wasn't violent, only to be cut off mid-sentence. At last, after a few one word and cut-short responses, Steve said, "Even prisoners are allowed exercise time." There were a few quick agreements after this and then Steve returned to the kitchen with a smile. </p><p>"Tony's agreed that I can take you to the gym. I'm going to change into something more suitable. You might want to change your shoes; there should be some running shoes in your room." </p><p>Bucky guessed that the remark about running shoes was meant as an order. He hated that Steve wasn't clearer about it, but given that the shower comment had apparently been intended as an order, Bucky could work on the understanding this was how he was meant to behave. If he was punished for this, he would reassess his understanding of the situation. A new handler always meant a period of time adjusting to their idiosyncrasies. Bucky finished the toast and then went to find the running shoes in the bedroom. He was ready before Steve emerged from another room, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that seemed about two sizes too small for him. </p><p>"You ready?" Steve asked. </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Steve led the way to the elevator, which opened for them automatically. Again, Steve didn't have to push buttons for it to start moving. </p><p>"Tony has some rules," Steve said, "at least for now. No sparring, or anything that could injure another person. You're not to go near the obstacle course or combat drones. You're to stick to things which are not directly related to violence." </p><p>That made little sense, unless this Tony was deliberately trying to impair Bucky's usefulness. Perhaps Tony was another asset, worried about being replaced, but that didn't make sense if he was able to give orders to Steve. Bucky decided it was not worth trying to understand the illogic behind the orders and to just accept them, so he nodded. Steve gave another lying smile. </p><p>The door opened into a wide space with a high ceiling. The room stretched away to large windows on the far wall, the space in between filled with exercise equipment, free weights, and even a combat ring. There were doors to other areas, but Bucky didn't know which of them led to the forbidden areas, so he would not investigate them. He considered his options, ruling out the punching bags and dummies, before settling on the running machines. That would be unlikely to cause issues with his arm while providing adequate exercise. He walked over and climbed onto one, inspecting the controls briefly. The operation of the machine was intuitive and soon he had it running at a steady pace while he jogged along at a speed that would be a sprint to most humans. </p><p>Steve climbed on the machine beside him and set his pace to match. Bucky wondered if this was a test, if he was meant to show how his capabilities compared to Steve. Normally he wouldn't have worried about that; he knew just how capable he was compared to most humans. Steve though was different. Bucky knew from fighting him that Steve had enhanced speed and strength. If Bucky proved incapable of matching him, he would be punished or prevented from combat missions. Bucky didn't want to consider what that might mean, but he didn't want to face a lifetime of experiments. He would prove his capabilities, but it couldn't be too obvious that he was fighting against Steve, so he resisted the urge to increase the speed on his treadmill's settings. </p><p>After approximately five minutes, according to the counter on the machine, Steve said, "I always find running on a treadmill so much more tedious than running outside." </p><p>He didn't sound at all out of breath, as though he was taking a gentle stroll. Bucky was controlling his breathing, so he was sure he showed no outward sign of strain. He certainly didn't complain about the training being tedious. He just kept running. </p><p>After a few minutes more, Steve said, "JARVIS, can you play us some music?" </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure who he was addressing, but a voice from apparently nowhere answered, "Of course, Captain Rogers. Do you wish me to play a selection of your previous likes or continue with the list?" </p><p>"Previous likes," Steve answered. </p><p>Music began playing, an upbeat tune and a woman singing about a man she found attractive. </p><p>Jarvis was clearly one of the people assigned to watch them over the security monitors. It was interesting that he was allowed to speak and interact with them; that wasn't standard protocol. </p><p>After another minute, Steve said, "You didn't seem surprised about JARVIS." </p><p>"I was aware of being observed," Bucky replied. </p><p>"JARVIS isn't like a security guard watching. He's an artificial intelligence, basically a very clever computer. He runs the building. If you need something, you can ask JARVIS for it." </p><p>"Understood." </p><p>Bucky made no change to his pace. </p><p>After twenty minutes of running, Steve announced that he was going to mix it up a bit, and stopped his treadmill. Bucky wondered if this meant he had passed the test or if he was expected to do likewise. He stayed running, watching carefully as Steve moved over to one of the exercise bikes and adjusted the resistance settings. </p><p>Bucky watched the timer on the treadmill and ran for five minutes more than Steve before he too brought the machine to a stop. He walked over to the bikes, set the difficulty to match Steve's, and began to cycle at a fast pace. The resistance setting for this machine was higher than similar machines Bucky had used in the past for endurance tests. It seemed that these machines had been built in order to withstand the exercise requirements of enhanced individuals. </p><p>"I guess you really did have a lot of tension to work off," Steve said. "Or I guess being stuck in the holding cell for hours would make anyone want to burn some energy." Steve was definitely breathing a little harder now, but not showing any signs of distress. "Just be careful not to overdo it. You're still easing yourself back into things after a period of low rations." </p><p>Was this a trap? Was Steve trying to trick him into failing this test? Or would failing to comply with the implied order result in punishment? </p><p>Bucky glared at Steve to show that this wasn't his choice and pressed the button to reduce the resistance setting on the bike five times. </p><p>Steve paused after the bike and went to get some water from a cooler at the edge of the room. Bucky didn't know if that was acceptable for him too. He hadn't had anything to drink apart from the bowl of broth since the day before and water would have been greatly beneficial, but he was supposed to be training. He didn't want to show weakness while he was being tested. So he stayed where he was until he had been on the bike for five minutes longer than Steve and then he went over to take his place on the rowing machine next to the one Steve was currently using. </p><p>"Let me know when you're ready to stop," Steve said. </p><p>Bucky straightened his legs and pulled back on the handles with enough force that the machine groaned a protest, using his metal arm to provide the majority of the strength so that he didn't aggravate the healing injury. It was more than sufficient to complete the move. He would continue until Steve ordered him to stop or the machines broke, whichever came first. He increased the resistance of the machine to the maximum and got into a steady but rapid rhythm. Beside him, Steve slowed to a stop and turned to watch him, ignoring his own exercise in favour of studying him. Bucky didn't think that Steve was even close to his limits yet. He clearly wasn't trying to compete with Bucky. </p><p>"Bucky, stop," Steve said. </p><p>Bucky eased the handles back towards the front of the machine and released his grip. There were dents in one of the handles from his metal hand. </p><p>"I think maybe we should stop before we break Tony's gym," Steve said, as if he'd been the one with the strength to do that. "We can always come back tomorrow if that's what you want, but I think that's enough for today, don't you?" </p><p>"I am capable of continuing," Bucky said. It wasn't quite arguing with Steve. He simply wished to make it clear that it wasn't his weakness bringing this session to an end. </p><p>"But you don't have to. You're allowed to relax." </p><p>Steve reached out and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. A gentle touch, even though Bucky hadn't earned a reward yet. </p><p>"I know this is an adjustment but it'll be okay," Steve said. He stood and offered a hand to help Bucky to his feet. Bucky glared at the hand but he took it. He stood and followed Steve back to the elevator and back to the huge apartment from earlier. </p><p>"Do you want something to drink?" Steve asked and Bucky was glad he'd done enough to earn this at least. </p><p>"Yes," he said. </p><p>"I'm not sure your stomach could handle something acidic like juice or soda, so maybe just water for now. Is that okay?" </p><p>Bucky nodded and let Steve get him a glass of water. Of course Steve was taking care of him. He was Bucky's handler, even if he wasn't the real Steve. Bucky accepted the water and the soft touch on his arm, but he wasn't going to accept the lies. He wasn't going to be fooled again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky hadn't been given a significant enough task yet to earn a reward, but he was still allowed to sleep in the bedroom. Steve told him, as he sent him to bed after dinner, "Remember what we said about furniture. The bed's for you to use." </p><p>The bed wasn't as soft as some he'd been in, for rewards or for operations that involved pretending to be a normal person as cover. Bucky wondered if that was because he hadn't earned enough softness or because the lack of it was likely to be more conducive to sleep. He was used to hard ground and cold cells. Any sort of bed felt soft after that and brought with it confusion as his sleeping mind lost track of where he was or what he was doing. </p><p>As it was, Bucky actually managed to get a few hours of sleep. Once he had rested enough, he left the bed and went to stand outside Steve's bedroom, waiting for him to wait and issue orders. He considered kneeling but Steve had seemed upset about him kneeling the day before, so he waited at parade rest, studying the closed door. He slipped into the quiet mode of patient waiting, the stillness and calm more restful than the actual sleep. </p><p>When the door opened, Steve visibly startled at the sight of Bucky standing there. </p><p>“Jeez. How long have you been there?” </p><p>“Unknown,” Bucky answered. He estimated it was no more than three hours but he was never certain unless there was a clock present. Sometimes even then he was doubtful because it was possible handlers might change clocks in order to disorientate him. </p><p>“Did you at least get some sleep?” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Well, that’s good. Did you have breakfast?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Okay. Then let’s get some for you now. Small portions and often was what Bruce recommended.” </p><p>Steve made Bucky some more toast and had him sit and eat while Steve moved around the kitchen grabbing more ingredients for a more substantial breakfast. He set things cooking on the stove and then went to a machine on the counter, filling it with water and a brown powder. </p><p>“Do you want to try some coffee?” Steve asked. Bucky studied the coffee maker. He knew a little about coffee. It was commonly drunk by HYDRA staff and targets alike, but he had never drunk it. He knew it contained caffeine and the scientists were usually careful about what he put in his body so that it didn’t interfere with their experiments. Was this another test? Was Bucky supposed to conform to previous expectations when prompted? Or did Steve not know that caffeine was not allowed. </p><p>“No,” Bucky said. Whichever option it was, refusing was the sensible choice. He realised a moment later that the question might have been another implied order. Steve had made suggestions that were meant as orders before. Bucky wished once again that Steve would be clearer. Had no one instructed him on the proper method for handling an asset? </p><p>But Steve didn’t seem to mind that Bucky had said no. He got Bucky a glass of water and then poured a mug of coffee for himself. Bucky drank the water and ate his toast slowly. By the time he was done, Steve was portioning out eggs and beans onto plates. The portion he gave Bucky was perhaps a quarter the size of the one he gave himself. </p><p>“When Tony agreed to let you use the gym,” Steve said while they ate, “I promised I’d ask. He wants to look at your arm. You don’t have to say yes if you’re not ready.” </p><p>“Yes,” Bucky said. He remembered Steve saying the day before that it would be a good idea to scan the arm. It was clear this was a task he was meant to comply with. </p><p>“If you want to wait, you can. I only promised I’d ask.” </p><p>Bucky glared at Steve, wondering why he was determined to prevent him doing what was required of him. Maybe Steve was deliberately trying to sabotage him so that he didn’t have to give him a reward. </p><p>“Yes,” he said again. </p><p>"Was that yes to the scan or to waiting?" </p><p>"The scan." The confusion wouldn't have occurred if Steve had been clearer in his question. </p><p>“Alright. JARVIS, can you tell Tony we will come to his lab for the arm scan?” </p><p>The voice from the computer spoke out of apparently nowhere, “Mr Stark went to bed less than two hours ago. Do you wish me to wake him?” </p><p>“No, that’s okay. If you could tell him when he wakes up.” </p><p>“Of course, Captain.” </p><p>Steve turned his attention back to Bucky and said, “He probably won’t wake up until the afternoon. We can do other stuff this morning. I mentioned that Bruce would like to take a look at you. He could do his tests while we wait for Tony.” </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>The answer seemed to surprise Steve. </p><p>“Okay then. I’ll be right there with you, and if you want to stop at any time, you can do.” </p><p>They finished their breakfast and then Steve spoke to JARVIS again, asking to arrange a session with Bruce. This time, JARVIS told them that they were welcome to go to Dr Banner’s lab. Bucky’s heart raced faster when he heard the word doctor. Steve hadn’t mentioned that word before, but Bucky knew what it meant. Doctors meant experiments and pain. No wonder Steve had expected him to be reluctant, but Bucky knew what would come out the other side. If he could endure the experiments, then Steve would tell him he was good and give him a reward. </p><p>It had been a long time since he had had a reward and his groin ached faintly at the thought of it. He could endure whatever they did to him if it meant avoiding punishment and getting that instead. </p><p>They went back to the elevator. This time, it opened into a hallway that smelled of disinfectant. The scent made Bucky’s stomach churn with memories of blood and vomit and the punishments that came from causing a mess in a clean lab, but he followed Steve out and towards a door a little way along. The lab was like many others that Bucky had been in, perhaps a little cleaner and definitely brighter. Large windows overlooked the city but Bucky’s attention was focused on the various machines and the slightly padded table in the middle of the room. </p><p>There were no straps on the table. That would make this more difficult. When there were straps, he didn’t have to worry about thrashing about in pain. Without straps, he would have to hold himself still and that was always a challenge when the experiments reached their peak. </p><p>A man walked into the room, the white lab coat marking him a scientist. He flashed them both a smile and then held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Bruce Banner. It’s a pleasure to meet you properly.” </p><p>Bucky stared at the hand. Was he expected to shake it? Was he expected to hand something over? </p><p>At Bucky’s hesitation, Bruce lowered his hand and Bucky felt like he’d failed a test. This was going wrong already. He needed to behave better if he was to earn his reward. </p><p>“I thought we would start with a brain scan,” Bruce said. “That’s probably the most critical for your future healing. We need to see what was done to you and regular scans will allow us to map your progress over time. After that, if you’re still willing, we can do a whole body scan and I’d like to draw some blood to see how the serum affects your body chemistry. With your arrival, my sample size for people with serum enhancements has increased by fifty percent, so it would be good to see how your physiology compares. How does that sound?” </p><p>He waited for a response from Bucky. Bucky wasn’t sure what was expected of him, so he said, “Yes.” </p><p>“Do you have any questions?” </p><p>Bucky wanted to know how long the experiments would last and how much they would hurt, but knowing the answers to those questions wouldn’t make them any less painful or any shorter. All that was required was their completion. He needed to cooperate so that he could get his reward. He looked at the table. </p><p>“Do you require me to strip?” he asked. </p><p>“No, that’s not necessary. The equipment can do the scans through your clothes.” </p><p>“Should I get on the table?” </p><p>“If you don’t have any other questions, yes.” </p><p>So Bucky climbed onto the table and lay back. His mind was still mulling over Bruce’s words, especially the comment about the fifty percent increase in subjects. The math there was basic enough. If one extra person meant a fifty percent increase then there were two other test subjects that Bruce experimented on. Bucky wondered who they were, if they were also trained in combat. That might explain why Steve didn’t think it necessary for Bucky to recover full combat proficiency immediately, if there were backups. Unless the others were replacements for him. </p><p>If that was the case, he would have to demonstrate his value so that they didn’t consider destroying him for the replacements. </p><p>Steve came to stand beside the table, reaching out and taking hold of Bucky’s hand. Bucky frowned at their linked fingers, wondering why Steve would be initiating a reward now. Unless the hand was meant to restrain him when the pain started, in which case it was a very ineffective way to do so. </p><p>Bruce busied himself setting up machinery around the end of the table, over Bucky’s head. He talked as he worked, explaining that the scanner would create a three-dimensional model of Bucky’s brain. There were different types of scan that would run one after the other to record physical structure, chemical composition, electrical activity, and more terms that Bucky didn’t understand. He wasn’t sure why Bruce was telling him these things. Unless he was telling Steve. That made more sense, since as Bucky’s handler, Steve would be expected to understand the process for wiping and preparing him, even if none of the other false Steve’s had ever participated in that directly. Even Alex had only been an observer of those procedures or the one who gave the orders. He didn’t enact the procedures himself. </p><p>A plastic and metal hood lowered over his face, blocking out all but a slim slither of light near his neck. Bucky tensed, bracing himself for the inevitable pain. Steve patted his wrist gently with his other hand and reminded him that he was watching, the implied threat helping to keep Bucky still. </p><p>"Please close your eyes," Bruce said, "and try to keep as still as possible." </p><p>Bucky held himself still, muscles locked against accidental twitching. </p><p>Bucky saw a bright light through his eyelids but the shocks and fire he expected didn’t come, just a faint whirring and buzzing in his ears. The buzzing changed tone a few times before dying out. A moment later, the light vanished. </p><p>“That was the first scan,” Bruce informed him. “There are five more to go. You’re doing really well, but let me know if you need a break.” </p><p>Bucky said nothing, and the light came again. The whirring was different this time, more of a rising and falling rhythm, but the scan was no more painful. Bucky wondered if the machine was broken. Bucky was unsure how long each scan lasted. A few minutes at most. There was no pain, not even mild discomfort, just a buzz like insects in his ears. </p><p>“You’re doing great, Buck,” Steve said, patting his hand. Hopefully that meant there would still be a reward, despite the lack of pain. </p><p>Bruce paused again before proceeding with the third scan. </p><p>“Halfway there,” Steve told him after it. The final scans were no more difficult than the first and soon Bruce was pulling the hood away from his face. </p><p>“You did brilliantly,” Bruce said. “That’s the important bit over with. You’ve given me enough to work with if you want to call it a day or we can move on to the full body scan.” </p><p>“I can proceed,” Bucky answered. </p><p>“Great. I’ll set up the scanner. Feel free to sit up and stretch while you can, because you’ll need to keep still for the next part too.” </p><p>Bucky sat up. He stretched his right arm out because he had been told to, but he wasn’t sure what the point of this was. He had been made to stand still for much longer under much more difficult circumstances before now. This table even had padding to rest against, which was more than he was used to. </p><p>“We did a quick scan of you when you were brought in,” Bruce said, wheeling one machine away and bringing another over to the bed. This one had long, flat pieces stretching out horizontally above the height of the table. “We had to check that you didn’t have any serious injuries, but I wanted to wait until you were conscious and able to consent before we did anything deeper. This will give us a good look at what’s going on inside you and highlight any areas of concern.” </p><p>“I am fully functional,” Bucky informed him. Even his arm was healed enough to no longer ache. </p><p>“I’m glad to hear that, but it never hurts to check.” </p><p>Of course it hurt to check. Tests always hurt. Bruce was as much a liar as Steve, it seemed. But Bucky stayed silent. He lay back when Bruce told him to and allowed the long pieces of the machine to be positioned over his body. </p><p>“I’ll need you to let go now, Steve,” Bruce told him. </p><p>Steve’s fingers slipped out from Bucky’s hand. “I’ll be staying close. I can talk while this thing’s scanning you, if this will help you stay calm.” </p><p>“That’s not necessary,” Bucky said. </p><p>“Alright. You’re doing much better than I did. I was slightly freaked out when Bruce wanted to scan me for the first time. I thought there was a bee in the room when it started buzzing and I started panicking about having an allergic reaction.” </p><p>There was something forcibly cheery in Steve’s expression and he didn’t quite look at Bucky. It looked like he was lying again, but Bucky didn’t know enough about Steve’s behaviour to be certain of it. It seemed a pointless lie though, to pretend to find these procedures alarming. And why would Steve have been put through experiments if he was a handler? Perhaps that was also a part of the lie. </p><p>Bucky closed his eyes and held still, being good for the experiment in the hope of a reward at the end of it. Lights flashed over his body, bright even through his closed eyelids. The machine hummed as the scanner worked. Bucky focused on keeping his breaths shallow, so that the rise and fall of his chest wouldn’t be considered unnecessary moving. </p><p>“There are no obvious injuries,” Bruce said, “though there's some inflammation around your right arm that suggests a healing injury, and I don’t like what that metal arm is doing to your shoulder and spine. The weight difference between your left and right sides is clearly putting strain on your skeletal structure. Perhaps Tony will be able to help with that.” </p><p>“Are those screws?” Steve asked. </p><p>“Looks like. The metal is screwed directly into the bone to hold the arm in place. This plating here spreads the weight out across the upper back, which is probably the reason the arm doesn’t pull itself out of the socket over time, but it means that there’s even more metal in there adding to the weight imbalance. Do you find your back gets stiff and painful?” </p><p>It took Bucky a moment to realise that the last point was addressed to him. </p><p>“Nothing that impedes function,” Bucky said. It was the closest he would allow himself to saying yes. </p><p>“Something can be painful without impeding function,” Steve said. </p><p>Bucky didn’t answer. He understood that threat well enough. There were plenty of ways he could be hurt in punishment that wouldn’t damage him beyond usefulness. </p><p>“I’m going to give you an anti-inflammatory, which should help with the pain around the shoulder joint itself and your right arm,” Bruce said. “I’ll start you on a normal dose of an over-the-counter variety because I don’t want to risk an overdose, but I suspect we’ll be able to increase the dosage once we’ve checked what your metabolism is like. Getting you anything more powerful would be a challenge because I’m not licensed to prescribe medications.” </p><p>The lights and buzzing stopped. There was the sound of wheels on tile as presumably the machine was rolled away. A hand touched his again, fingers gentle against his skin. </p><p>“Can he move again?” Steve asked. </p><p>“Yes. I think that’s enough scans for now,” Bruce said. “I would like to do some tests on your metabolism, but that will involve you fasting for a day and then drinking a known quantity of a nutrient solution and being scanned while it works its way through your system. Given that it looks like you’ve been short on food for a while, I’d rather wait a bit on that one. Speaking of, how’s it going with the meal plan?” </p><p>Bucky sat up, given the permission to move, and saw that the question was addressed at him and not Steve. </p><p>“I have eaten all food Steve had provided me,” he said, “with no nausea or adverse effects.” </p><p>“That’s good to know. I think you’ll be fine with normal food, but let me give you some of these.” Bruce opened a drawer and pulled out some paper packets. He put most of them down on the table beside Bucky, but kept one in hand. He tipped the contents of the packet, a grey powder, into a clear container and poured in water. He grabbed a lid that had some metal spikes attached to it in a way that looked painful, but Bruce screwed the lid so that the spikes went inside the container. A button on the lid made the spikes spin round, mixing the powder and water together. The whole process took less than two minutes and then he was holding the container out towards Bucky. </p><p>“The shakes are a mixture of protein and complex carbohydrates, with added vitamins. It should mean you’ve got all your nutritional bases covered. Eat normal meals with Steve but an extra one of these a day should make up for what you’ve been missing over the last few months.” </p><p>Bucky opened a cap on the lid to create an opening. The contents were now a thick liquid, easy enough to pour into his mouth. He had been given liquid nutrition on occasions before, so the concept was familiar enough, though he was surprised by the sweetness of the flavour. It was almost like drinking something made with fruit. </p><p>“Thanks, Bruce,” Steve said, while Bucky drank the shake. </p><p>“You can keep the cup, just make sure you clean the mixer properly each time.” </p><p>“Thanks,” Steve said again. </p><p>“Right. One last test and then I can let you go. I just want to take a quick blood sample, if that’s okay.” </p><p>Again, it took Bucky a moment to realise that last part was addressed at him. He nodded, mouth still full of shake. </p><p>“Great. You’ve been very cooperative.” </p><p>Bucky smiled a little at that and glanced towards Steve, thinking of the reward that should be coming. </p><p>Bruce was careful about cleaning and sterilising the patch of skin on his arm. He fed the needle in carefully with barely a sting of pain and then used a glass vial to collect a small portion of blood. Bucky finished off the shake while Bruce worked. After, Bucky used two fingers of his metal hand to hold a piece of cotton wool in place while Bruce sealed and labelled the bottle. </p><p>That was when the lab door opened and someone new walked in.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I am very disappointed in you," the new arrival said, and Bucky fought not to flinch. "You," he jabbed a finger at Steve, "promised me I could take a look at his arm. I called dibs." </p><p>"He's a person," Steve said. "You can't call dibs on a person. Besides, you were asleep." </p><p>This was obviously Tony. Bucky wanted to deflect the current anger before it resulted in punishment for him, because anger almost always resulted in punishment for him, regardless of who was actually to blame. </p><p>"Bruce has finished his current tests. You can study my arm's functions now." </p><p>"See," Steve said. "There's no need to complain." </p><p>"No need to complain? I'm forced to play host to a cyborg murderer and I don't even get to play with his robot arm first?" </p><p>"He's not a murderer!" </p><p>"Did you not read the same files I did?" </p><p>"Maybe this isn't the place for this argument," Bruce said, stepping between Steve and Tony. Steve immediately took a step back, stopping his angry posturing. Tony, on the other hand, didn't back down. He just turned on Bruce and jabbed a figure at his chest. </p><p>"Don't think I'm going to forgive you cutting in line." </p><p>"This isn't a competition, Tony. He's said you can look at his arm and this situation has got to be stressful for him, so maybe you should back down and stop acting like you're a toddler who's seen someone else playing with his toys." </p><p>"Fine," Tony said. He pointed to Bucky and then gestured towards the door. "You, murderbot, come with me to my workshop." </p><p>Bucky stood from his position on the table and followed. He had been given a direct order, which was a refreshing change from Steve. Steve followed close behind, complaining that Tony shouldn't call Bucky things like that, but Bucky didn't care what anyone called him. He had been Soldier and Asset. If he was now Bucky to Steve, that didn't mean he would stay being Bucky. One label was much like another. </p><p>They went into another floor of the building, this one full of machinery but it was a lot less sleek than Bruce's lab, with some of the machines seeming half finished and a mess of tools, component parts, and scrap metal lying on every flat surface. </p><p>Tony pointed to a chair next to a workbench with a sharp command to, "Sit!" </p><p>"He's not a dog for you to bark orders at," Steve said, as Bucky took the seat and laid his left arm on the surface of the workbench without being instructed to do so, taking the initiative because he was here for the arm to be studied. </p><p>"No," said Tony, "he's the guy who murdered my mom in cold blood. You're lucky I didn't have JARVIS put a million volts through him the moment he entered my building." </p><p>Bucky hadn't realised that Tony was related to one of his targets. That explained the hostility. No doubt Tony would make this more painful than was strictly required in order to get revenge, but Bucky could endure. He would stay quiet and good and earn his reward. </p><p>Tony positioned a machine over Bucky’s arm, pressing a few buttons to make it emit a blue light, a brighter patch moving up and down the arm from shoulder to fingertips and back again. A moment later, a blue image hovered in the air above the workbench, like a sculpture made of light, a copy of his arm. Bucky had never seen anything like this, but he tried to squash down any feelings of curiosity because new technology usually meant new ways of being dealt pain. </p><p>“Remove the outer casing,” Tony said. Bucky opened his mouth to say that he didn’t have the ability to remove the casing on his arm, but then the casing vanished off the light-copy, revealing wires and inner workings. </p><p>“Interesting,” Tony said, reaching into the light-copy, manipulating it with his fingers. With a gesture, he could make it spin or expand in size so that he could get a closer look at pieces, muttering as he worked. </p><p>“This was definitely not built in the fifties,” he said. “This would have been pretty close to cutting edge five years ago, never mind fifty. The dexterity in the fingers is phenomenal, and I’m saying that as a guy who’s built robot suits with hands. This would be closer to the level of a normal, human hand than anyone except me has built in the last ten years and are those pressure plates under the casing?” </p><p>He prodded Bucky’s arm and pieces of the light-copy lit up in response. </p><p>“Did you feel that?” </p><p>“Yes. I can detect pressure but not sensations like heat or texture.” </p><p>Pressure was necessary to know when he had hit something or to allow him to determine when a grip would be tight enough to hold something without breaking it. </p><p>Tony continued his exploration of his copy, talking to himself in a constant stream of words. Bucky wasn’t sure if the words were addressed at him, at Steve, or at no one in particular. He pointed out electronic components that hadn’t been manufactured until the eighties, and others that hadn’t been built until the nineties. </p><p>“And is that…” Tony zoomed in on a piece and swore. </p><p>“What is it?” Steve asked, hurrying over to look from where he had been lurking nearby. </p><p>“Stark tech. The power supply uses old Stark tech components. My dad was working on research into rechargeable batteries back in the seventies, trying to work out power sources that could be recharged in use by a constant low-level input. This…” He swore again, staring at the piece he was focused on, a cluster of pieces in Bucky’s shoulder that were just bits of glowing light to him. He didn’t know how his arm functioned. That was for the techs to figure out. They were the ones who repaired him when he was damaged or performed upgrades when there were ways to improve the arm’s functioning. </p><p>“Tony, what’s wrong?” Steve asked. “Is there a problem? Is he in danger?” </p><p>Tony waved a hand and the light-copy of the arm vanished. He stood and paced away from them. “JARVIS, I need files from the old research archives for Stark Industries. Files from around seventy… seventy-eight. I think. Late seventies, definitely. Look for any references to batteries, power supplies, and the human electrical charge. Show me all files that reference those three things, with the most references at the top of the list.” </p><p>“One moment,” said the voice of JARVIS from the air. Steve pushed himself in front of Tony, who was looking now at a large screen on which words were rapidly moving. </p><p>“What’s the problem?” Steve asked. “What did you find? Is this going to hurt Bucky?” </p><p>“What? No. You can go. We’re done here.” </p><p>“Tony!” </p><p>“I found something my dad built in the arm,” Tony said. “I need to know if it’s something HYDRA stole because it could be made to do what they needed or if…” </p><p>“If he actually designed it for Bucky’s arm,” Steve finished. </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>“Tony, Howard would never have worked for HYDRA. He was a good man, and he was Bucky’s friend.” </p><p>“Don’t stand there telling me how great my dad was. Just get him out of here. I need to check this.” </p><p>Bucky stood. He had been dismissed, even if Steve didn’t understand that. Bucky walked towards the elevator doors, but they didn’t open for him, not until Steve came over as well. Bucky remembered what Steve had said about not wandering around unescorted. It seemed he couldn’t go anywhere without Steve at his side. That was only to be expected; an asset was to be kept by the handlers unless it was being put to use. </p><p>“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, as they rode the elevator back to Steve apartment. “Tony can be a bit intense at times but he means well.” </p><p>Bucky didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place to judge a technician. At least Tony had been honest, admitting to his dislike and giving clear orders instead of vague statements open to misinterpretation. Bucky just hoped he'd been good enough to earn his reward. Steve had been very positive about his behaviour with Bruce, but neither set of tests had been as painful as those Bucky was used to. Perhaps Steve wouldn't think being still and cooperative through non-painful tests was good enough. </p><p>That was certainly how it seemed. As they walked into the apartment, Steve made another of those annoying statements. “How do you feel about lunch?” </p><p>Bucky wasn’t sure what the correct response to that was. He wasn’t supposed to express feelings. He settled for what he hoped was a safe reply. “Bruce said I should eat normal meals with you.” </p><p>“That he did. I’ll go make us something.” </p><p>Steve didn’t give Bucky any orders, so Bucky stood at attention in the living area, sinking into his waiting state, until Steve came to get him. </p><p>“Have you just been standing there this whole time?” Steve asked, some indeterminate time later. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“You could have sat on the couch. It would have been much more comfortable, but I guess this is better than kneeling.” </p><p>That was a promising comment, but it was clear that Steve didn't intend to go straight into a reward. He sat Bucky down at the kitchen table and fed him sandwiches and soup. The food was good, but it wasn't what Bucky was craving, but he knew he couldn't simply come out and ask for a reward. It didn't matter how good he thought he'd been, he didn't get a reward until his handlers thought he deserved one. Asking for a reward before that point just meant more pain. </p><p>After lunch, when Steve asked what he wanted to do, Bucky considered asking to go back to Bruce. Perhaps there would be more tests. Bruce had indicated that he wanted to experiment on Bucky in other ways. If the tests were more difficult, perhaps Steve would decide he had behaved well enough to earn a reward. But Bruce had dismissed him. Perhaps it would be worse to ask to go back once someone had decided he was finished with him for now. In the end, Bucky decided it was better to wait until he was summoned for more experiments. </p><p>"Training," he said, instead. </p><p>Steve nodded his agreement and sent Bucky off to change into the running shoes again while he switched outfits into one more suitable for training. The training followed much the same pattern as the day before, although this time JARVIS started playing music for them as soon as they arrived at the gym. </p><p>Bucky started with running, then moved on to bike and rower, making sure the difficulty settings of each were higher than the day before. Steve didn't try to argue him into lowering those settings today. This felt like a victory. He was proving his capabilities, both as a test subject and with regard to his physical capabilities. After approximately three hours of training, it was clear Steve was getting frustrated. He had paused his own exercises and was standing to the side of the room, typing something on his phone between anxious glances in Bucky's direction. </p><p>Rather than head to the weights section, Bucky walked over to Steve and asked, "Do you want me to finish training for this session?" </p><p>He hoped by that phrasing he was making it clear that he could continue, but that he was trying to fit with his handler's needs. He wanted Steve to be happy with him to give him a reward. If Steve was frustrated, he was more likely to give a punishment. </p><p>"It's probably a good idea," Steve said. "There's such a thing as too much of a good thing." </p><p>Bucky nodded, and allowed Steve to lead him back to the apartment. Once they arrived, Steve gave him a little smile and said, "Let's get cleaned up." </p><p>Bucky felt a thrill running through him, because showers had been used for rewards before. If nothing else, Steve might help him get clean, might wash him with gentle hands like some of the other Steves had done. Bucky hurried to follow Steve through the apartment, but Steve stopped in a doorway, giving Bucky a puzzled frown. </p><p>"Your bathroom is through there," Steve said, slowly, with a worried tone in his voice. </p><p>"You meant that we should clean up separately?" Bucky asked. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. </p><p>"Well, yes," Steve said. "I think you deserve a bit of privacy, don't you?" </p><p>Bucky nodded, because agreeing about what he needed was always a good idea, even if he felt disappointed by this information. Steve thought he deserved to be alone in the shower. He didn't deserve soft hands running over stiff muscles. He didn't deserve a reward. Bucky walked away and went to his bathroom to wash himself efficiently because that was what he deserved. Steve didn't think he deserved to enjoy this. </p><p>The fact that he felt a bit of pleasure at the heat of the water felt like an infraction, felt like he was getting something forbidden, but instead of making him scared of punishment, it sent a little thrill through him. It was like he had something they couldn't take from him, this moment of warmth surrounded by a lifetime of ice. It was like the knowledge that Steve was lying, a piece of something to be buried deep in the back of his mind where they couldn't see it but where he would know it was there. He didn't have the reward he wanted, but he had this. He had this piece of a thought that was his own. </p><p>He clung to it when he went back out to the rest of the apartment to find Steve. </p><p>"I thought we could watch a movie," Steve said. "I have a list of things people tell me I should watch, or read, or look up. Every time I meet someone new, they suggest something I should look up. I thought we could watch one of them together." </p><p>Bucky nodded, because it was certainly true that they could do that. Steve put a hand on his arm and guided him to the couch. Remembering the comments about furniture, Bucky sat without waiting for orders. From the little smile on Steve's lips, this was either the right move or Steve was looking forward to having him punished for this later. </p><p>"Tony keeps making Sleeping Beauty jokes at me," Steve said, "so I thought we could watch that one. It's meant to be for kids, but I've found a lot of things intended for kids to be very entertaining. What do you think?" </p><p>Bucky nodded again and Steve asked JARVIS to play the movie for them. Bucky watched the story unfold, full of magic and nonsense. He understood that it wasn't meant to be real, but a part of his mind kept considering it as if it were, finding holes with its internal logic. Like if the fairies had managed to raise the girl without magic for sixteen years, how was it that they still hadn't learned things like baking by the time of her sixteenth birthday. Bucky wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask Steve that question, or if he would be criticised for wasting too much energy thinking about a story which made no sense. Unless this was a test, designed to see if he could spot inconsistencies. Perhaps he was failing by being silent. </p><p>He wished Steve would be clearer with him about what he wanted. He wished Steve would just give order, mission parameters, instructions to be followed. </p><p>He wished for Alex back. Alex hadn't been gentle as often as some of the others, but at least he'd been clear about what he wanted from Bucky. He'd wanted Bucky to shape the century. </p><p>He wondered if he was allowed to ask what had happened to Alex, or would that be punished for ingratitude. He knew he was supposed to be grateful that Steve was here to look after him. Even if Steve didn't give him rewards. </p><p>Steve gave him food that was more interesting than protein bars and nutrient paste. Steve ordered large quantities of Chinese food and they ate together in the kitchen, Bucky encouraged to try some of everything. </p><p>"Do you have a favourite?" Steve asked, and Bucky indicated a dish with chicken and a leafy vegetable that he hoped would be a suitable answer. Steve smiled. "JARVIS, make a note for the next Chinese order." </p><p>"Preference noted, Captain." </p><p>They watched another movie after dinner, this one with toys that came to life when people weren't watching. After, Steve said that they should probably go to bed. He went into one bedroom and let Bucky go into the one that had been given to him earlier. He looked at the bed, big enough for two people with room to spare, but he wasn't being given a reward yet. He knew, from Steve's comments about furniture, that he was probably meant to lie down on this bed, but what was the point if Steve was in the other room? </p><p>Bucky removed his boots and lay down on the bed, on top of the covers. He stared up at the ceiling. </p><p>What more could he do to earn a reward? He had cooperated with the tests. He had trained. He had followed Steve's orders. What else was he supposed to have done? </p><p>He considered that question for some time. Perhaps if he went to Steve and showed him what pleasure he could provide, Steve would relent and offer some back. There had to be a reason for these big beds and Steve wasn't good at explaining what he wanted from Bucky. Maybe Bucky was supposed to show initiative. </p><p>Bucky stood. He walked out of his bedroom and to the door down the hall. He tapped lightly on the door, not wanting to disturb Steve if he was sleeping, because that was certain to result in punishment. </p><p>Steve opened the door seconds later, looking at Bucky with worry on his face. </p><p>"What is it, Buck? What's wrong?" </p><p>"Is it acceptable for me to come in here with you?" Bucky asked. He waited for reprimand, but Steve gave him a sad smile, one of those lying smiles. </p><p>"Of course, Buck." He stepped back to let Bucky inside.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is some non-con groping in this chapter but only very briefly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve walked across the room to the bed, the covers of which were still thrown back. He slid into the bed, shifting to be off from the centre, but left the covers down. He offered another lying smile and indicated the empty space beside him. An invitation. </p><p>Bucky knew he'd made the right choice. He lay down on the bed beside Steve, the warmth lingering in the sheets almost as good as a soft touch. He let Steve pull the covers up over them both. </p><p>"Is that better?" Steve asked. </p><p>Bucky nodded, because lying in a bed with a Steve meant gentle touches and that was better than pain and punishment. He risked going a step further. He reached out under the covers and lay his hand on Steve's side. He let it rest there, studying Steve's face for a reaction. It was possible he was overstepping his boundaries, inviting punishment, but Steve tried giving him another false smile and Bucky was encouraged. Steve could have ordered him to stop but he didn't. He was allowing Bucky to touch him. So Bucky slid his hand lower. The fake smile cracked. </p><p>"What are you doing, Bucky?" </p><p>"I can make you feel good," Bucky told him. He wasn't asking for a reward for himself. He was trying to do something good for his handler. He hoped that would make the breach of protocol more acceptable, especially since Steve would have realised what would come next when he allowed Bucky to share his bed. Bucky slid his hand under the waistband of Steve's boxers, reaching for the soft flesh of Steve's penis. </p><p>Steve was out of the bed and across the room with speed that was impressive even when taking into account his enhancements. </p><p>"I... That... You don't have to do that, Buck." </p><p>"I know," Bucky said. "You didn't order me to." </p><p>If Steve had ordered him to, he would have had to, but Steve didn't give that order. He'd forced Bucky to take the initiative and apparently that had been the wrong choice to make. This was why he didn't normally act with a direct order to act. There was anger on Steve's face and Bucky knew what that meant. Even though he knew it wouldn't be enough to stave off the inevitable punishment, Bucky climbed from the bed and dropped to his knees, lowering his gaze respectfully. </p><p>"I'm sorry." </p><p>"That's... Bucky... No. You don't have to kneel. There's been some crossed wires here, that's all." </p><p>Steve crossed to him and Bucky couldn't help flinching as the hands reached out. Steve let his hands fall back to his side and Bucky knew that he had just lost the soft touch he might have had. He had flinched and so now Steve was punishing him by denying him comfort. Bucky kept reacting in the wrong way and soon it would result in a serious punishment. He wouldn't be able to avoid pain much longer. </p><p>Steve crouched in front of Bucky, lowering his head so that Bucky couldn't avoid looking him in the face. </p><p>"Bucky, I'm not mad at you," Steve said. Another lie. His anger had been plain on his face a moment earlier. He wished this fake Steve wouldn't keep playing pretend. "I know that you've been through things that were terrible and you've been made to do things that hurt you, physically and emotionally, and whatever you had to do to survive that is okay, I don't blame you for it in any way, but what HYDRA did to you was wrong. No one's going to do anything like that to you here. I'm not going to touch you like that. Not ever. Do you understand?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. He understood. HYDRA had been wrong to allow him the soft touches from the false Steves and even Alex. HYDRA had been wrong to let him have pleasure and rewards. He was a weapon after all, and weapons didn't need enjoyment. Bucky understood that he would never get a reward so long as Steve was his handler. </p><p>"I think maybe it's for the best if you go back to your own bedroom," Steve said. He patted Bucky lightly on the shoulder, but the hand was gone too quickly for it to be truly comforting. That was probably all he would get from now on. He wasn't going to get the touch he really wanted. Not ever. Bucky nodded. He got to his feet and walked from the room. </p><p>Bucky lay back down on his bed, thinking about what this meant for his future. No more rewards. No more kindness. Even Alex had given him comfort sometimes, had given him physical release from the pressure that built up in his groin and even made the experience pleasurable when he performed his duties well enough. He wanted Alex back. He didn’t want this lying Steve who would never touch him that way. </p><p>As he lay there, Bucky became aware of a voice, muffled by two doorways, faint to the point where it was barely audible. He stood and crossed to the door on silent feet, pressing his ear to the wood. The words were still difficult to make out, but he had excellent hearing. </p><p>“No, I told him to go back to his room,” Steve was saying. He was talking about Bucky. “Yeah, but I’m not sure he got it.” </p><p>Bucky couldn’t hear another voice. The other person was probably speaking on a phone so Bucky was only getting Steve’s side of the conversation. </p><p>“Can you do it?” Steve asked. Then, “And you think I am? Look, you can’t do any worse than me. I’m trying but I have no idea what I’m doing here.” </p><p>That was certainly true. He had clearly never been briefed on how to properly handle an asset like Bucky. </p><p>“I’m trying,” Steve said again. This was followed by, “Please, Sam.” </p><p>Presumably this Sam person agreed to whatever was asked of him because Steve’s next words were, “Thanks, man. I owe you for this.” A minute later, he was saying farewell. </p><p>Silence washed over the apartment again. When it was clear no one was going to speak further, Bucky returned to his bed. It wouldn’t do to be caught spying on his handler. He lay back, thinking over the words he’d heard. Steve knew he wasn’t doing a good job as a handler so he had called this Sam to take over from him. Good. Maybe now Bucky would have a handler who knew what he was doing. </p><p>------</p><p>Bucky slept a little, but he woke easily when he heard movement outside his door. Bucky stood and put his boots on. He left the bedroom. He hadn’t been ordered to, but he didn’t want Steve to think he was being lazy, not when there was a new handler coming. </p><p>He went into the kitchen and found Steve there, by the coffee pot. </p><p>“Hey, you’re up,” Steve gave him another lying smile. Bucky nodded. “Did you sleep okay?” Bucky had slept, so he nodded again. “You ready for breakfast?” </p><p>“If you are,” Bucky answered, because he was supposed to eat meals with Steve. Had Steve forgotten already? It was a good thing he was getting a new handler because Steve was useless at taking care of him. </p><p>“I could eat,” Steve said, and started getting ingredients out of the fridge to make omelettes with spinach and tomatoes. It was a nutritionally sound choice at least, but that didn’t stop Steve offering him coffee again. When Bucky declined, Steve gave him milk and orange juice instead. Along with the omelette, Steve made slices of toast and rashers of bacon. </p><p>“I used to dream about having meals like this,” Steve said, “back in the day. There was never enough food and hardly anything fresh. My first few weeks in this time, I might have stuffed myself silly, trying out every new taste I could find. Some were more successful than others.” </p><p>Bucky ate in silence while Steve talked. The words conveyed little useful information. Steve was not very efficient at informing Bucky of what he needed to know. There was so much that was extraneous. </p><p>After the meal, they cleared away the dishes together then Steve suggested Bucky might like to shower and change clothes. Bucky had felt his clothing was adequately clean, but he did as he was told, even if it wasn’t a real order. It was wasteful of resources to wash him again and make him wear new clothes when he didn’t need them but Steve was his handler, at least until the transfer became official. Obeying his handler was essential to minimise the punishment he was due. </p><p>As Bucky emerged, clean and changed, there was a chiming noise. </p><p>“Sam Wilson is requesting access,” JARVIS’ voice announced. </p><p>“Perfect timing,” Steve said. “Let him in, please, JARVIS.” </p><p>The elevator doors opened and a black man walked into the apartment. He looked familiar and it took Bucky only a moment to recall why. He braced himself for pain, but Sam just flashed him a wide grin. </p><p>“Hey, Sam,” Steve said. He grabbed Sam and pulled him into a hug. Bucky felt a surge of anger that Sam would be allowed comfort when he wasn’t.</p><p>When Steve stopped hugging Sam, Sam turned his attention to Bucky. </p><p>“Hi. Do you remember me?” </p><p>Bucky nodded. And then, because verification might have been required, he said, “I broke your wings and tried to kill you.” </p><p>There was no point trying to deny what had happened. Any attempt to do so was likely to result in punishment rather than avoid it. </p><p>But Sam just said, “I won’t hold it against you so long as it doesn’t happen again.” </p><p>Bucky nodded, glad that Sam didn’t intend to punish him for attempting to complete a mission. Perhaps he understood better than Steve what it meant that Bucky was an asset, a weapon to be used, a thing to follow orders. </p><p>“Can you give us some privacy?” Sam asked Steve. </p><p>“Sure, I’ll stay in the building. Have JARVIS call me when you’re done.” Sam put his hand on Steve’s shoulder as he passed, squeezing gently before letting him head to the elevators and out of the room. </p><p>Sam gestured towards the couches in the large living room, “Have a seat.” </p><p>That was at least a nice clear order. Bucky walked into the living room and sat on one end of a large couch, his upper body rigidly upright as he watched Sam take a more relaxed pose across from him. </p><p>“Steve asked me to come and talk to you,” Sam said. “I want you to try and be honest with me. I know that can be difficult sometimes, it can be painful, but it’s for the best.” </p><p>Bucky nodded. He understood that telling the truth could result in painful punishments, but that concealing the truth would only lead to worse punishments when the truth was inevitably discovered. Sam was being more honest that Steve had been by admitting that there might be a punishment. </p><p>“Steve told me his perspective on what happened between the two of you last night, but perhaps you could tell me your perspective on what you did and why you did it. What happened after Steve suggested you go to bed?” </p><p>The question was broad but clear, giving Bucky the freedom to provide whatever information was relevant while still making it obvious what was needed. Bucky had to provide the truth, whatever punishment that might result in. </p><p>“I went to the bedroom Steve allocated for me, removed my boots, and lay down. I thought about Steve and about the fact that he had not initiated physical contact. I thought that if I initiated physical contact, he might reciprocate.” Bucky forced himself to look Sam in the eye so that he didn’t think he was concealing anything. </p><p>“You wanted physical contact?” Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky knew a question like that could be a trap. If he simply said yes, it was an invitation for beatings and violence. </p><p>“Not all physical contact. A type of physical contact. Gentle contact.” He swallowed and forced himself to admit his transgression, “I wanted pleasurable contact. I wanted Steve to bring me to orgasm. I thought that if I did that for him, he might do it for me, so I went into his room.” </p><p>When Sam didn’t immediately lash out or demand punishment, Bucky continued, “I knocked on his door quietly. If he had been asleep, I would have returned to my room, but he responded. I asked if it was acceptable for me to be in his room and he said yes. He invited me to share his bed. I began touching him and he smiled at me. He did not immediately tell me to stop.” </p><p>Bucky wanted to make sure that was part of his statement, even though he knew it would probably do little to ease his punishment. After all, he had still done all of this with the end goal of receiving pleasure for himself, which was unacceptable behaviour. He wanted to highlight Steve’s failure as a handler though for letting it get so far if it wasn’t what he wanted. Bucky would be punished regardless, but this way, he would show someone else that Steve wasn’t a good handler and maybe he would get a better one. One who didn’t lie so much. </p><p>“You took that as permission to continue?” Sam asked. </p><p>“He asked me what I was doing and I told him I would make him feel good, but when I reached for his genitals, he left the bed. I apologised. He told me he wouldn’t touch me like that and sent me back to my bed.” </p><p>“How did that make you feel?” </p><p>The question was unexpected. Bucky wasn’t used to assessing in terms of feeling except for how the feel of wind on his skin would affect the trajectory of a bullet. He considered carefully, wanting to answer accurately but concerned that Sam might think he was being disobedient in not answering right away. </p><p>Thankfully, Sam said, “It’s alright, take your time.” Presumably he read something of Bucky’s concern on his face. So Bucky took his time. </p><p>“I was worried,” he said at last. “I upset Steve.” </p><p>“You were worried because you hurt Steve. Did you think he would hurt you?” </p><p>Bucky shook his head. “No.” </p><p>He didn’t think Steve would hurt him, not directly. Handlers made sad faces when Bucky was taken for punishment by others. Only Alex of his handlers had ever punished him directly and those punishments were generally a simple thing to get his attention, like a single slap, and not a proper punishment. None of the other Steves had even done that much. No. Steve wouldn’t have hurt him, but others would. Perhaps Tony would want the duty, since Bucky had killed his mother. </p><p>“That’s good,” Sam said. “Steve wouldn’t hurt you. I’m glad you understand that. Was there another reason why you were worried about upsetting Steve?” </p><p>“Upsetting Steve is bad.” </p><p>Sam gave a little smile, more genuine than any of the smiles Steve had given him. </p><p>“True,” Sam said. “I think for now, I’ll accept that as an answer. Upsetting Steve is bad. Trying to unpack that into more complex feelings can be a part of a proper therapy course later.” </p><p>Bucky nodded. Those therapies would be the punishment for upsetting Steve and Bucky would properly understand why upsetting Steve was bad. </p><p>“Was that nod you agreeing to go to therapy?” Sam asked. </p><p>“Yes.” If Sam wanted him to go to therapy then Bucky would go to therapy. Unless Steve told him otherwise, but Sam seemed a more competent handler than Steve. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to worry much longer about what Steve wanted. </p><p>“Wow. I’ve known guys who haven’t been through half of what you’ve gone through who’ve fought me tooth and nail about going to therapy.” </p><p>“I won’t fight you again.” </p><p>“That was poor choice of words on my part. Sorry. It’s good you don’t want to fight me and I’m glad you’re agreeing to therapy. Let’s get back to last night. I’ll start with the good.” </p><p>Sam paused, waiting for Bucky to nod to show he was listening. </p><p>“The desire for sexual pleasure and human contact is a perfectly normal one. There’s nothing to be ashamed or upset about on that front. It’s something most people have to some degree or another. There’s nothing wrong with feeling sexual desire. Do you understand?” </p><p>Bucky nodded. He knew that the desire was normal. It wouldn’t be an effective reward otherwise. They had expected him to want it, to be good to earn it. </p><p>“Other good things: you asked Steve about going into his room and waited for him to invite you before going to his bed. It was good that you watched his reaction and made sure he was smiling and happy about what you were doing. It’s good that you stopped as soon as it was clear he wasn’t happy and you didn’t try to pursue him or change his mind. You accepted his decision and apologised. That’s all good.” </p><p>Bucky nodded, bracing himself for the rest. He felt that Sam wouldn’t have spent so long emphasising all this if he weren’t about to follow up with a detailed breakdown of all the things Bucky had done wrong. </p><p>“The bad thing was the misunderstanding,” Sam said. “Steve wasn’t clear about his boundaries and you thought you had his agreement for more than you had. That’s on him as well as you and I’ll talk to him about it.” </p><p>“Good.” </p><p>“It’s good that I’ll talk to him?” </p><p>“He’s not clear about what he wants. I get confused.” Bucky framed the last part as a failing of himself, so that he wouldn’t get in too much trouble for criticising a handler, but Sam had asked him to tell the truth. Whatever punishment that followed would almost be worth it if he got a better handler. </p><p>“I’ll tell him that, but you can also tell him yourself. If you don’t know what he wants, just ask him. Communication goes two ways. And next time you want… physical contact, don’t assume he’ll understand what you want. Make it clear to him so he doesn’t misunderstand.” </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>Sam continued, “I think we need to clarify a few things about consent. It’s a difficult topic with a lot of nuance but the simple explanation is that when it comes to sex, you should always make sure that the other person wants it too. They have to agree and it can’t be a forced agreement. What I mean by that is that if I held a gun to your head and told you to have sex with me or I’d shoot you, you might say yes to sex because it was better than dying, but it wouldn’t be real consent because I’d forced you into that position. You hadn’t been in a position to make the decision freely. Does that make sense?” </p><p>Bucky nodded. “I didn’t threaten Steve.” </p><p>“I know that. I think he’s more worried about the other way round.” </p><p>Bucky frowned, trying to understand that. “He didn’t threaten me.” </p><p>“I know that, but you’ve been through a lot. You were in a very difficult position for a long time without much choice about any of it. Steve’s worried about taking advantage of you. He’s worried you might not be in a stable enough mental state to properly consent to anything. Or maybe you’re just not his type. I’m not going to make guesses about his sexual preferences; you’ll have to ask him that if you want to know.” </p><p>Bucky already knew. Steve had said he wasn’t going to touch Bucky that way ever. </p><p>“There’s no time limit on these things,” Sam said. “You’ve been out of holding for a day. Give it some time to adapt to your new situation before you rush into anything, with Steve or anyone.” </p><p>The order wasn’t precisely clear because there was set amount for the required ‘some time’ but it was an order at least. Bucky wasn’t allowed to have sexual contact with anyone until he had adapted to this change in his situation, to this new place and his new handler. </p><p>“How do you feel about all this?” Sam asked him. </p><p>Bucky considered the question. Feeling was still a strange concept. He wondered if this was something else he would have to adapt to. He could come up with an answer at least, “Less confused.” </p><p>“Good.” </p><p>The confusion wasn’t gone entirely, but it was definitely reduced. Sam was much better at this than Steve. Bucky hoped Sam would be his new handler.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam called Steve to tell him that they were done with their conversation. </p><p>While they waited, Sam told Bucky, "You've been through a lot, more than we can probably imagine. We want to help you recover, help you get better, whether that's dealing with the trauma or practicing social interactions, whatever you need." </p><p>Bucky nodded. Handlers wanted him to be better, he was used to that. He had to be the perfect soldier and if he was defective, which he clearly was for having refused to kill his mission against orders, then it was to be understood that some retraining was required. </p><p>Sam paused, but when Bucky stayed silent he continued. "We're operating a little blind here. There's no manual for helping someone get over decades of abuse. You were placed in Avengers' custody because the world trusts the Avengers to keep you contained if, well, if something goes wrong and you turn dangerous." </p><p>"I am dangerous," Bucky answered. Sam had to know that. Sam had seen him fight. Then because he realised that might be misinterpreted as a threat, he added, "But not to you or Steve." </p><p>"I'm glad to hear that. We're not going to hurt you either. Do you understand that?" </p><p>Sam was definitely a handler then, like the Steves, if he followed the same procedures about not delivering punishment personally. </p><p>"Of course," Bucky said. </p><p>"Of course," Sam repeated, sounding surprised. </p><p>"Steve won't hurt me, I know," Bucky said. "If you're like Steve then you won't hurt me either." </p><p>Sam smiled. "I'm glad you understand that, Bucky. You're not Hydra's prisoner anymore. We'll help you transition, but you should know that this is way beyond what I've trained for and something Steve has no training in at all." </p><p>Bucky nodded his agreement, risking punishment but needing to indicate the truth of the statement it if it might mean he got a better handler. He did wonder why Sam was acting as Steve's superior in this though if he wasn't a fully trained handler either. Perhaps in the fight in Washington, enough people had been killed that they were forced to put partly-trained operatives into action. He didn't dare put those thoughts into words though. </p><p>"We're going to try to help you as best we can," Sam continued, "but we're probably going to make mistakes. I'm sorry about that." </p><p>Steve returned then and both Sam and Bucky turned their attention to him. He looked nervous. Bucky wondered if he might be punished for not being a good handler and he almost hoped so. The thought of someone else being punished shouldn't have been a good one, but if the person punished was a liar like Steve, someone determined to trip Bucky up at every opportunity, then Bucky wouldn't mind. </p><p>“How was the talk?” Steve asked. </p><p>“Bucky and I have had a nice chat about consent,” Sam answered. “He’s going to work on being clearer about what he wants but you need to do the same. Bucky told me he gets confused about what you want, isn’t that right?” Sam turned to Bucky for confirmation and Bucky nodded. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I’ll try to be clearer.” </p><p>Bucky nodded, but he felt miserable. This meant Sam wasn’t taking over as his handler then. Perhaps Sam would teach Steve to be a better handler, but it wouldn’t change the fact that Steve lied. Constantly. With every sad smile. With his name. </p><p>"Given that all of this is a big change from what Bucky's used to, I think it's probably also going to be a good idea for Bucky to get used to non-sexual touching. Bucky, you can say stop at any time. If Steve is touching you and you don't like it, say so. No one will be upset with you if you ask him to stop for any reason." </p><p>He said that no one would be upset, but he didn't say there would be no punishment. He didn't say that Steve would listen to what Bucky said. Bucky could read the gaps in what wasn't said well enough. He nodded. He was supposed to tell Steve when he didn't want to be touched but telling the truth could lead to pain. </p><p>"Let's try," Sam said. "Steve, I want you to sit down next to Bucky." </p><p>Steve took the seat on the couch. It was hard for Bucky to keep his attention on both Sam and Steve. If he looked at Sam, Steve might move and hit him from Bucky's blind spot. It was unlikely though, and plenty of people wouldn't worry about his blind spot. Alex would have just hit him from the front, so really it didn't matter that Bucky wouldn't see an attack coming. He forced himself to relax. </p><p>"Is this okay?" Steve asked. He reached out and put his hand against Bucky's flesh arm, resting against the forearm but not restraining it. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky answered. It was better that way, because he would know if Steve moved that hand, even if Bucky was looking at Sam. Even twisting to hit him with the other hand would be indicated by movement of the hand touching him. Bucky relaxed a little further. Steve looked to Sam, who gave a nod. Steve slowly moved his hand up Bucky's arm until it rested on his shoulder. It felt less of a threat there, because it would be harder to restrain him with that grip, although the hand was closer now to his neck, which was a vulnerable part of the body. The hand remained a soft touch though, a comfort touch. </p><p>"Bucky," said Sam, "I want you to practice telling Steve to stop." </p><p>Bucky didn't want the soft touch to stop. He also didn't want to get the inevitable punishment that came with telling a handler what to do. Sam hadn't phrased it as an order, but he said he wanted this and Bucky was supposed to give his handlers what they wanted. Except that Sam hadn't officially taken over as his handler. Was it better to do what Sam wanted to show he wanted Sam as his handler? Or to refuse and keep Steve touching him? He wasn't sure which of them it was better to obey and telling Steve to stop was definitely not obeying Steve, even though this was set up as an exercise. </p><p>Sam had told him he was allowed to ask questions when confused, so Bucky said, "Do I have to?" </p><p>Sam gave a little bark of laughter at that. </p><p>"Not if the idea is going to make you look so miserable," Sam said, "then no, but I still think this is an important exercise. Maybe if we try it the other way around. Bucky, you try touching Steve." </p><p>Steve withdrew his hand from Bucky's shoulder despite Bucky not having told him to. It seemed he was going to lose the touch anyway, only now he might have done the wrong thing by not following Sam's instructions. He had new instructions though, and he could follow those. He placed his hand on Steve's forearm, mirroring Steve's actions from earlier. He looked at Steve, who didn't say or do anything. Bucky thought back, trying to think if he had missed a step. </p><p>"Is this okay?" he asked. </p><p>"Yes," Steve said. </p><p>Bucky moved his hand slowly up Steve's arm. </p><p>"Stop," Steve said, as Bucky's hand neared his shoulder. Steve's tone was calm, but Bucky snapped his hand away anyway, bracing himself for punishment for crossing some line that hadn't been clear. </p><p>"That's great, Bucky," Sam said. "You checked that Steve was alright with the touching and stopped when he asked. That's exactly what you're meant to do. Now, things like touching someone's arm is probably going to be okay most of the time, if it's a person you're friends with, but a stranger might not like it so you should check, and if someone's going through a bad moment, like a trauma flashback, then they might not want you touching them then, even if they'd be okay at other times. As you get to know someone, you'll start to pick up on visual clues as to whether they're going to be alright with touching, but for now, it's probably better to ask. If you want to go with something more intimate than touching the arm, then you should definitely ask for the time being." </p><p>Bucky thought about what might be considered more intimate touching. Sam had said there would be no sexual touching for now, but there were things between a hand on the shoulder and sex. Those things might be okay, and if he was supposed to practice asking, he might not get in trouble for asking for something he would normally have had to wait to receive. </p><p>He looked at Sam and said, "Can I hug you?" </p><p>Beside him, Steve stiffened. Sam looked between them. </p><p>"You wouldn't rather hug Steve?" Sam asked. It didn't matter what Bucky would rather, since Steve had said he was never going to touch Bucky in this way, besides, Sam was a much better handler than Steve, even if he'd admitted he wasn't fully trained, but he couldn't say that. Not without getting punished. </p><p>When Bucky didn't answer, Sam said, "Sure," and got to his feet, opening his arms. </p><p>Bucky stood and moved slowly towards Sam. When he got close enough, Bucky stopped and let Sam close the rest of the distance, pressing their chests together, wrapping his arms around Bucky's back. Bucky wrapped his arms gently around Sam, careful not to squeeze too hard; he didn't know if Sam was enhanced. The touch was warm and gentle. It felt like a reward, even if it wasn't a full reward. It felt like the soft touch of a handler after a successful mission. </p><p>When Sam's hands lowered, Bucky understood that to mean that the hug was over and he stepped back. </p><p>"How did that feel?" Sam asked. </p><p>"Good." Of course it felt good. Hugs were for when he'd done things well and wasn't about to be punished. </p><p>Steve had stood up from the couch and shifted a little from foot to foot. He was looking at Bucky like he expected something from him, but Bucky wasn't sure what. He stayed silent, rather than risk getting into trouble. </p><p>At a minute of awkward silence, Sam said, "Well, I think that's enough talking about the consent of touching for now." </p><p>"Right," Steve said. "Bucky, what do you want to do now?" </p><p>Bucky wanted to keep having comfort touches with Sam, but Sam had decided that the subject was over, so he considered and said instead, "Training." </p><p>"You spent three hours working out yesterday," Steve said. </p><p>Sam held up a hand to stop Steve saying anything else. </p><p>"Bucky," Sam said, "when Steve asked you what you wanted to do, what options did you think were available to you?" </p><p>"Non-combat training," Bucky said, since combat training had been ruled out, as had missions. "Testing of my biological functions with Bruce. Testing of my metal arm with Tony." </p><p>Sam nodded. "And what else?" </p><p>Bucky considered. "Showers." He wondered about adding meals, but they happened at set times according to Steve's hunger. </p><p>Steve made a pained noise. "Buck, you can do anything you want to do." </p><p>Anything? How could he do anything? There were a million possible actions that were forbidden or that would earn him punishment. He already knew that trying to bring Steve to orgasm wasn't allowed, just as he knew that hurting Steve wouldn't be acceptable. How was he supposed to choose when he didn't know what he was allowed to choose from? </p><p>Perhaps something of his panic showed in his expression or perhaps Sam just better understood how to interact with an asset. Bucky was capable of making decisions. When he was out on a mission he had to adapt to changing circumstances or choose the most effective way to complete the mission's objective within the parameters he'd been set, but there were always parameters. There was always an overall goal to be achieved. He didn't know what goal he was to achieve here and so he was left without knowing what he was allowed to say or do. </p><p>"I think telling him he can do anything is too broad," Sam said, silencing Steve with a gesture again. "And also not quite true, given the conditions of his custody." Bucky noticed this calling out of Steve for lying to him, but didn't let his reaction show as Sam continued. "Bucky, would it help you if we give you a list of options to choose from?" </p><p>"Yes." Of course it would help to know what choices were allowed. Bucky had to assume Sam was asking such an obvious question in order to teach Steve, since Steve hadn't thought to set objectives or parameters. </p><p>"For now, let's keep the list nice and simple. As well as those things you've listed, Bucky, you could read a book. You could play a game with Steve, or me and Steve if I'm here. There are computer games you can play by yourself. You could watch something on TV. You could borrow Steve's sketchpad and try drawing something. That'll do for now. Maybe in the future we can get you some hobby kits so you can try your hand at, I don't know, building model airplanes or knitting or something, but let's keep things basic while you get used to having more choice. Do you understand all of those options?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"Okay. So, with the expanded list of options, what do you want to do? This isn't a test, it's a choice. It's about picking the thing that you would enjoy to do. There's no right or wrong answer to this question." </p><p>While Sam might say that none of the options were wrong, it was clear that some were less right than others. Technically he was allowed to choose training but Steve had already indicated that training was not a good choice. He might not be punished for choosing training but he certainly wouldn't be rewarded for it. He was probably meant to pick one of the new options so show that he understood what Sam had told him. A book was probably a sensible option because books could convey useful information, providing knowledge which might prove useful on future missions, but if he chose an option that was solitary, Sam might leave. </p><p>Enjoyment was such a strange mission objective, far less concrete than he was familiar with, but at least Sam had given him an objective. It wasn't a thing he had ever factored into his decisions except so far as knowing he wanted to avoid pain and gain rewards. But rewards weren't on the list of things he could choose. He had to pick from those options and so he would pick the one that kept Sam around, in the hope that it would lead to a better handler. </p><p>"A game," he said. "With you and Steve." </p><p>Sam smiled to show the choice was acceptable and said, "That's great, Bucky." </p><p>Steve got a pack of cards from a drawer and they explained the rules of poker to him. Bucky didn't remember ever having played poker before, but the rules were clear and when he heard them, it was like he was being told something he already knew. Perhaps he had played poker on a previous mission and the knowledge had been erased. He found when he started playing that the turns of the game made sense to him. There were a lot of things like that in his head. He had skills but no memory of how he had gained the skills. </p><p>As they played, it was easy to tell when Steve was bluffing. For someone who lied constantly, he wasn't very good at it. It was harder to see when Sam was bluffing, but Bucky thought he did best. They gambled for match sticks instead of money, and it was Bucky who had the largest pile at the end, when Steve ran out of his pile. </p><p>"I should teach you cheat," Sam said. It seemed Steve didn't know that game either, so Sam explained the rules to both of them. This game didn't feel familiar in the way that poker had, but the rules were simple enough. Sam split the deck between them and they each had to put cards down on a pile, saying what they were discarding, but they could lie about it. They had to put down the same number card as the ones previous announced as the discard type, or one higher or lower. When there were not any cards in his hand of the required numbers, lying became essential. Any player could accuse any other player of lying and if correct, the caught player would have to pick up the pile of discarded cards. If incorrect, the false accuser would have to pick up the cards. The winner was the one who was rid of all their cards the fastest. </p><p>Bucky watched the card pile, remembering what he had discarded and trying to remember what the others had announced. Steve's lies were easy to identify, but Sam required logic to catch out, and sometimes he was sneaky. He would lie and claim to have put down a pair of threes, while keeping the threes he did have in his hand, to trick Bucky into accusing him of lying the next time he said he was putting down threes. </p><p>The game was an excellent exercise in deception and identifying deception as well as engaging. Sam was definitely a good handler to know of training methods like this. </p><p>When they finished the game, and Bucky won again, with Steve clutching approximately three quarters of the deck in his hand, Sam asked Bucky if he'd liked the game. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky said. "It was an enjoyable use of time." As unfamiliar as he was with the concept of enjoyment, Bucky felt that he was successfully achieving the objective Sam had set him. He had chosen from the allowed parameters and it have proven a good strategy to meet the objective. Perhaps Bucky would be rewarded for this, even though it was a far different mission from those he was used to. </p><p>Steve retreated into the kitchen to prepare lunch and left the other two in the living room. Sam tidied the cards and matchsticks away. Bucky watched him, wondering if he was allowed to ask Sam to be his handler. Probably not, so he would have to think of another way to indicate that he wanted Sam, that he could be a better asset with Sam. </p><p>"Steve says I'm not allowed to do combat training," Bucky said. It was a statement of fact. It wasn't a complaint. It would hopefully not result in too severe a punishment. </p><p>"Do you want to do combat training?" Sam asked. </p><p>"It's important to maintain mission readiness." </p><p>"You're not the Winter Soldier anymore. You don't have to stay at peak condition." </p><p>"But what if Steve needs me?" Bucky asked. If Steve needed to send him on a mission, he had to be ready to fight. </p><p>"You want to fight to help Steve?" </p><p>"Yes." That was his purpose. </p><p>"I think you can help more right now by not fighting. From a political perspective, keeping you from being seen to be on active missions is probably sensible, as there are a lot of people who want to hold you accountable for the things that HYDRA made you do. Showing that you can be more than a weapon will help make the case that you aren't dangerous and should have more freedoms than you currently are able to have. If people see you fighting beside Steve, it could cause problems." </p><p>Steve went on missions? Then he definitely needed to be ready. </p><p>"If Steve goes on missions, I should be there to protect him," Bucky said. It might mean punishment to correct a handler, but Sam had said he wasn't trained to be a handler at this level, and if Steve got killed on a mission because Bucky wasn't ready, there would be worse punishment. </p><p>"Steve has a whole team to protect him," Sam said, "and then there's your own mental health to consider. Going into combat too soon after everything you've been through could be a massive setback in your recovery." </p><p>"You don't want me to go on missions." </p><p>"I think holding you back from active missions is a very sensible decision for the time being. If aliens invade tomorrow and Steve needs you to watch his back, we may have to reconsider things, but for now, I think no missions is the right call." </p><p>"Training is not active combat," Bucky pointed out. </p><p>"This clearly means a lot to you," Sam said. "Would doing things like target practicing or sparring be enjoyable for you? Or do you want to do them because you feel like you should?" </p><p>Bucky didn't understand the question. Doing what he should was enjoyable because it meant no punishment. </p><p>While Bucky was still trying to puzzle out a correct answer, Sam said, "I think you should focus on figuring out what you want, what you enjoy, for now. Once that's a bit better established, we can revisit the question of whether you should be cleared for missions. It gives us time to work on the politics angle too." </p><p>Bucky nodded. It wasn't a mission but it was a goal. The parameters were somewhat vague, but it was better than anything Steve had given him. Bucky could figure out his wants if that was what Sam wanted. He would demonstrate success at this mission and then Sam would make him his asset. He knew he wanted that.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam ate lunch with them and afterwards, Bucky reminded Steve that he was supposed to drink a shake as well as eat the meals. Steve hurried to make it at the reminder. Hopefully this would serve as yet another demonstration of Steve's inability to serve as a competent handler since he wasn't paying enough attention to Bucky's physical needs. As Bucky drank the shake, Steve asked him again what he wanted to do. Didn't he know that handlers were supposed to give orders not ask for preferences? </p><p>"Bruce," Bucky said. He would have preferred to play the lying game more but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to pick the same thing twice. Besides, he was supposed to figure out his wants and one way to do that would be to rank the different options he had been given. The downside of choosing Bruce though was that Sam announced he had somewhere else to be. He got into the elevator with them but got out at a different floor. Bucky watched him leave. </p><p>"How did you like Sam?" Steve asked. </p><p>"I liked Sam," Bucky said. He wasn't sure how to answer the 'how' part of the question, but Steve seemed happy with that response. </p><p>"He's a good guy, and has a hell of a lot more experience with counseling than I have." </p><p>Counseling? Was that what they were calling handling? Terms changed over time, languages shifted, and different organisations used different terms. It could be that they used that word now. It would explain why no one had called Steve his handler. </p><p>Bucky nodded, and said simply, "Yes." </p><p>He didn't want it to seem like he was criticising Steve because that might mean punishment, but he was allowed to agree with him. </p><p>"I'll try to do better with the whole communication thing," Steve said. Bucky nodded again. He wasn't sure what he was meant to say to that. Any comment he made could be taken badly and lead to punishment. </p><p>"I don't have any training with dealing with trauma," Steve said. "I know that this must be difficult for you, adjusting to being free from HYDRA. I want to make things easier for you. If you want me to do something differently, if I'm handling something badly, please tell me and I'll try to do better." </p><p>Bucky wanted to tell him to give him orders, to behave like a proper handler. He wanted to tell him not to give vague and confusing instructions and instead to give him proper mission parameters he could know how to follow. But he wasn't allow to give instructions to a handler. Telling Steve what to do would just result in punishment. So Bucky stayed silent. From the look of frustration on Steve's face, that was the wrong decision, but Bucky didn't know what to do to be more like Steve expected of him. </p><p>Steve sighed and said that they would go see Bruce if that was what Bucky wanted. </p><p>When they reached the labs, Steve tapped lightly on the door and waited for authorisation from Bruce before entering. Did Bruce outrank Steve? Bucky felt almost offended that he'd been given a handler so low down the ranks of the organisation and so clearly underprepared for his role. </p><p>"Have you found anything useful yet?" Steve asked. </p><p>"I think so. Interesting, anyway. I haven't got a magic fix for you, but I'm starting to understand the scope of the problem." Bruce gestured them inside. He pressed a few buttons and a glowing representation of a brain appeared in the middle of the room, with some areas lit and some dark. The model was larger than Bucky's torso and it was somewhat disconcerting to see his brain spread out in front of him like this. </p><p>"The brain is incredibly complex," Bruce said, "and memory in particular isn't straight-forward. How the brain stores language skills is different from how it stores physical skills, which is different from how it stores facts, and how it stores episodic memory. This area of the brain," Bruce gestured towards a dark patch, "is associated with episodic memory, that is, remembering the things that have happened to you. You can see the evidence of the neuron death, and some scarring here. There are also a lot of dead neurons in the white matter here," he indicated a nearby region. "White matter connects different areas of grey matter together, so it could be that there are some episodic memories that are still intact, but because of this damage, they can't be accessed reliably. It seems like most of the damage done during the mind wipes was focused on this area of the brain, removing episodic memory, but leaving this area, which is responsible for a lot around remembering mechanical skills, perfectly intact." </p><p>"So that's how he can remember how to fly a helicopter, but not his mom," Steve said. </p><p>"Precisely." </p><p>Bucky didn't need to see the scan of his brain to know that that was what the wipes did. After all, there would be no point in an assassin who couldn't remember how to operate a gun or know the protocols of engagement in a mission. He didn't need to remember the details of each mission, but it was important for him to remember how he was supposed to react to orders. </p><p>"What about this dark area?" Steve asked. </p><p>"That is associated with emotion and emotional connections. Empathy. I guess HYDRA didn't want their soldier feeling sympathy for his victims. Other areas have been artificially stimulated. This area," Bruce indicated a bright patch, "is linked to fear and anxiety. You see this lit up a lot in people with mental conditions involving paranoia or acute anxiety." </p><p>"Why would HYDRA want to make him more afraid? Surely taking away his fear would make him a better soldier." </p><p>"I guess a hyper-vigilant assassin makes sense, or maybe they wanted him too afraid of them to think about fighting back. From what I can tell, the stimulation was more to do with the drug cocktail HYDRA had him on." He addressed Bucky directly, "Now that's out of your system, you should settle back to more normal levels, but it will take some time for your body to adjust. I could get you, or more accurately talk to a licensed medical doctor about getting you, some pharmaceuticals to help even things out, but I'd be hesitant about using more chemicals to mess with your brain chemistry given that's been what's happening for seventy years, unless you feel very strongly about having them. I think it will be safer to wait and monitor and see how well your brain recovers on its own. We can always give it a little nudge in the right direction later if we need to." </p><p>Bruce continued looking at Bucky, clearly expecting a response. </p><p>"I'll do what you think is safer," Bucky said. </p><p>"Great. I can also talk to you about some calming exercises that might help bring your fear response down to a normal level naturally. That may be something you could work through with a therapist as well." </p><p>Steve tensed at the word therapist. Perhaps he expected a fight, perhaps he had been through therapies of his own and knew the pain involved. The thought of a therapist making changes to Bucky's brain brought with it the echo of old pain, of shocks through the face and screaming himself hoarse despite his teeth clamping tightly on the bite guard. But Sam had talked about therapy being necessary. If Bucky was to convince Sam to transfer him to his handling, then he would cooperate. </p><p>"Sam discussed therapy," Bucky said. "I told him I would do it." </p><p>"That's great, Buck," Steve said. </p><p>Bruce nodded. "I'm sure it will be a big help, but it won't be easy or quick. These things take time." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He wasn't happy to know that the therapy would be a long process, but that was expected. </p><p>"For now," Bruce said, "if you're comfortable with it, let's do another set of brain scans. I'm not expecting to see any major differences between yesterday and today, but the more readings we get, the easier it will be to spot patterns as things change. There are always natural fluctuations based on mood, how you slept the night before, what you've eaten recently, and so forth. Having more readings lets us filter out the noise and spot the real trends in the differences between scans." </p><p>Bucky lay down on the padded table as before and let Bruce fix the machines around his head. He still braced himself for pain, in case the first set of scans had been to trick him into a false sense of security, but that tension eased as the scan continued with only the same sensations as the previous occasion. </p><p>Partway through the process, Bruce said, "There's less of an adrenaline response today. I guess you're feeling a bit calmer the second time around. That's perfectly natural." </p><p>Someone touched Bucky's arm. He tensed again, ready to be held down as pain made his body thrash, but the touch stayed gentle. Perhaps Steve intended to offer a comfort touch for him being calm. Of course, he'd probably ruined that now because he didn't feel at all calm. </p><p>"Steve, could you step back please," Bruce said. The hand vanished, but that made things even worse. Was he going to be punished for reacting badly to the touch? Had Steve been told to step back so that the electric currents wouldn't travel through Bucky into him? </p><p>"What is it?" Steve asked. "What's wrong?" </p><p>"There was a spike when you touched him," Bruce said. "I'm guessing, from the parts that lit up, anxiety from being touched unexpectedly. It's okay, Bucky. You're safe. It was just Steve touching you. You're not in danger." </p><p>"I'm so sorry, Buck," Steve said. "We just talked about this, about the importance of asking permission, and I messed up already. I'm sorry." </p><p>It seemed that Steve was the one who had done something wrong, not Bucky. Maybe that meant that it would be Steve who got punished. Maybe Bruce would see that Steve wasn't a good handler and tell Sam to transfer him. Or maybe Steve would wait until they were alone and then arrange punishment for Bucky for making him look bad in front of Bruce. </p><p>"Bucky," Bruce said, "if you need to stop, say something or tap the bed with your hand." </p><p>Bucky didn't want to stop. Stopping would mean failure. Failure would mean punishment. He kept his body perfectly still. </p><p>"Wiggle your foot to continue," Bruce said. Bucky wiggled his right foot. "Okay then." </p><p>The light continued moving beyond Bucky's closed eyelids. The noises of the machine continued. Bucky tried to feel calm, tried to achieve the state that had earned the comment and the comfort touch earlier, but the more he thought about it, the harder it was to stay calm. </p><p>When the light finished and Bruce told him he could sit up, Bruce apologised. Bucky's confusion must have shown on his face. </p><p>"You were a lot more relaxed until I commented on it. I didn't mean to stress you out." </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure what he was meant to say to that. Was he supposed to reassure Bruce that he hadn't done anything wrong? Say that it had been Steve, touching him unexpectedly, that had been the source of the stress? Should he admit the thoughts that had been going through his head? Or would he just be punished more for admitting to fearing punishment? Would he be punished if he didn't say that he forgave Bruce? </p><p>As all these thoughts ran through Bucky's mind, the silence dragged on. After a minute, Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. </p><p>"So, Buck, what do you want to do next?" Steve asked. </p><p>Bucky ran through the options he'd been given earlier. Sam was gone, so they couldn't play the game again, and he would be in trouble if he picked training. So he said, "Tony?" </p><p>When asked, Jarvis informed them that Mr Stark was in the flight testing chamber with Mr Wilson and that they could be disturbed, so Steve led the way to the elevator again. The flight testing chamber was a huge room with a ceiling high above them and a series of beams criss-crossing overhead to form something like a maze or an obstacle course. Sam was up there, mechanical wings strapped to his back, performing maneuvers between the beams. </p><p>Bucky had seen Sam in flight before, had fought against him, but this was his first chance to really study him in action. The wings were articulated, able to fold and bend in ways that natural wings wouldn’t and, along with the thrusters in the backpack that clearly gave the majority of lift, there were smaller thrusters along the edge of the wings that could fire independently, aiding Sam in making sharp turns to avoid the beams. </p><p>Bucky didn’t remember seeing those smaller thrusters before. Were they a new feature? Or had Sam not needed them in the more open air when they’d fought before? </p><p>Their effect was extraordinary. Sam was able to twist his body through tight spaces, tucking in his legs and folding the wings to drop through a gap that seemed almost too small for him, only to spread the wings and thrust upwards before gravity could take hold. He used his legs to kick off against the beams or pulled them out of the way. It was astonishingly acrobatic and Bucky had to admire the skill and strength it would take to achieve such grace in the air. Not just the ability to move or the reflexes to control the wings, but the ability to know precisely where his body was at all times to avoid the obstacles. </p><p>He wondered if he would be able to fly in wings like that, or if the extra weight of his arm would drag him down and throw him off balance. He suspected it wouldn’t be possible for him, which was a shame, because the tactical advantage of having the ability to fly above normal combat was amazing. Someone with the skill and maneuverability of Sam would be an extremely difficult opponent. It would be far more interesting that sparring against someone like Steve, who, despite being enhanced, was still limited to the normal types of moves when it came to hand-to-hand. </p><p>Bucky started imagining what equipment he would need to take Sam down in a fight, before remembering that he wasn’t allowed to practice combat. He wouldn’t have another chance to test himself against Sam’s skill. </p><p>Sam spread his wings and glided down to the floor. He raised his hand in a little wave in the direction of Steve and Bucky, but he went to Tony. </p><p>“You’re right,” Sam said, “there’s a lot more maneuverability, but that’s the problem. The forces aren’t distributed through my body. The pull’s all in my upper body so my lower body is at the mercy of momentum. I feel like if I pull too tight a turn, I’m going to snap my spine and leave my legs behind.” </p><p>“You want me to adjust the harness so that there’s a direct connection between the wings and your legs?” </p><p>“Without reducing flexibility. Extra control in the wings won’t do me any good if I can’t move my legs.” </p><p>“Okay. Give me a couple of days to make the new prototype. You sure you don’t want the rocket boots?” </p><p>Sam laughed, even though Tony looked completely serious in his question. Sam turned towards Bucky and Steve then. </p><p>“Well? What do you think?” </p><p>“You are extremely skillful,” Bucky said. </p><p>“Sure. No credit to the guy who built the wings,” Tony muttered, but loudly enough that he clearly meant to be heard. </p><p>Bucky didn’t say that he wanted to test out his combat skills against Sam again, both because he’d been forbidden combat training and because he didn’t want Sam to get the wrong idea and think that Bucky meant to fight him. </p><p>“Impressive as always, Sam,” Steve said. “You liking the new model?” </p><p>“Mostly. A couple of tweaks and then we’ll be there.” </p><p>He needed a new model because Bucky had destroyed the old wings, had ripped them apart. That had been the necessary choice in a combat situation to rid himself of a dangerous opponent, but it seemed wasteful to destroy a tool with such capabilities. Even if Tony could build a new model, it would be like destroying Bucky’s arm, the loss of something special and a great diminishing of capabilities. </p><p>“Is something wrong, Buck?” Steve asked him. </p><p>“I regret destroying the previous set of wings,” Bucky said. </p><p>“That’s okay,” Sam said. “Heat of the moment. No hard feelings.” After a moment he added, “You should be apologising for destroying my car.” </p><p>Bucky frowned, trying to picture that, trying to drag the image from his memory and finding nothing, unless Sam’s car had happened to be under the helicarriers when they fell, in which case it was Steve who ought to take the blame and not Bucky. But he’d been given an instruction by Sam and he wanted to show Sam he could be a good asset with the right instructions. </p><p>“I don’t remember destroying your car,” Bucky said, “but I apologise.” </p><p>“You don’t remember?” Sam said. “You jumped on the hood and yanked the steering wheel out through the windshield.” </p><p>“The mission must have been wiped.” He wasn’t alarmed by this. There were a great many missions he didn’t remember afterwards, but Sam looked upset. Bucky wondered if he ought to say something reassuring, to explain that missions were frequently wiped to preserve security, but Sam had to know that as the more experienced handler. So he stayed silent.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It seemed Steve didn’t mind Bucky training as long as he didn’t spend too long on it or put too much effort in. If Bucky trained for under two hours at less than his capacity, Steve didn’t get that annoyed expression on his face. Bucky limited his training sessions to one hour and fifty two minutes to prevent that expression occurring. They settled into a loose routine. Steve would prepare breakfast for Bucky and then they would go to Bruce’s lab for the brain scan. After the scan, they would train and then they would shower before Steve prepared lunch. </p><p>In the afternoon, they would visit Tony and then Sam would come by and they would play games until dinner. After dinner, Steve would put something on the TV and they would watch together. Then Steve would declare it time for bed. Bucky would brush his teeth and use the toilet before lying down on the big bed. </p><p>True to his promise, Steve made no attempt to offer reward touching but neither did Sam, and Bucky didn’t know how to ask about Sam becoming his handler without getting in trouble. He settled for agreeing with every instruction Sam gave him to show his obedience, but that wasn’t enough. Perhaps he ought to disobey Steve or act disrespectfully, in order to show that Steve couldn’t control him the way a handler ought to. </p><p>He started small, with going to the water cooler in the gym during training and getting a drink without waiting for instruction. Steve didn’t comment. Did he even realise that was an infraction that ought to have been punished? </p><p>He would have to be more overt if he were to demonstrate that he was not behaving properly for Steve. He considered rebelling in front of Sam, but then Sam might decide he wasn’t suitable. He wanted to be on his best behaviour for Sam. He would keep his rebellions to be solely in front of Steve. </p><p>That evening, Steve asked Bucky to sit on the couch as always and started something playing. This time it was a show about a cooking competition, where a group of people tried to demonstrate that they were better at baking than their opponents. But they went about it in a very ineffective and illogical way, with some of the competitors helping the others out when they struggled. The people treated each other with smiles and friendliness even though they were meant to be rivals, and they were responsible for giving each other reward hugs. It didn’t make sense. </p><p>It also didn’t provide a great deal of useful information, unless Bucky intended to serve bread and pies he made himself, which would be a poor use of his skill set. Bucky sat through one episode of the show with Steve but when that came to an end, Steve was clearly planning to let the next episode start. Bucky stood up from the couch and walked towards his bedroom. </p><p>“Buck?” Steve called after him. </p><p>Bucky didn’t respond. He walked into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. </p><p>His hands began to shake. </p><p>This wasn’t a major infraction, one worthy of a major punishment, but it was still an infraction. He had left an activity assigned by his handler without permission to do so, without even asking for permission, and doing so would warrant punishment. At any moment, Steve would fling the door open and drag him back, or stand there making sad faces and saying how he didn’t want to see Bucky hurt, while someone else came in with cattle prods and batons to make him pay. He would lie and say how sorry he was while he allowed Bucky to suffer. </p><p>The longer the silence drew out, the worse he felt, because it meant Steve was waiting for someone else to get here. Steve wasn’t just going to reprimand him immediately, he was going to have someone deliver a real punishment. </p><p>Bucky waited, standing in front of the door, so he would be on his feet when they came for him, because Steve had forbidden him from kneeling like he ought to do. </p><p>But no one came. </p><p>After some time, Steve’s voice called softly through the door, “Goodnight, Bucky.” </p><p>There was silence and darkness beyond the door. Bucky wasn’t going to just lie down and try to sleep, because that was probably what Steve wanted. He wanted Bucky to let down his guard so that the punishment would hurt more. So Bucky waited. </p><p>He waited all night, staring at the door, expecting the sounds of approaching feet. </p><p>Perhaps they were waiting until he was asleep, in which case staying awake might postpone the punishment. He could stay awake for a long time. But not forever. Sooner or later, his body would require sleep and it would betray him. Then they would come for him. </p><p>He was still waiting when the morning light shone on the other side of the window and he heard Steve moving around beyond the bedroom door. Bucky knew that continuing to wait wouldn’t make the eventual punishment any better. He wanted the uncertainty to end. He wanted to know what Steve had planned for him. </p><p>He emerged from the bedroom and went to find Steve in the kitchen. </p><p>“Morning, Buck,” Steve said, with another of those lying smiles on his face, but even that faded when he looked at Bucky. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Steve asked. </p><p>“Functional.” </p><p>“Functional isn’t exactly a high bar, Buck. You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.” </p><p>Bucky sat down at the kitchen table, not acknowledging that Steve was correct. </p><p>After a few minutes, Steve slid a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast across the table to him. </p><p>“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Steve asked. </p><p>“I’m sure.” </p><p>He began to eat, chewing and swallowing mechanically. A part of him expected the food to be laced with something, part of the punishment, but the food was the same as it always was. He finished the meal and cleared away the plate. </p><p>Steve was just finishing as Jarvis announced that Sam was coming to see them. </p><p>“Let him in,” Steve said. The elevator dinged and Sam walked in, holding a tablet in one hand. He flashed a smile at them both and then frowned at Bucky. </p><p>“Wow. You look like shit,” he said. </p><p>“I didn’t sleep,” Bucky said. He didn’t explain that he hadn’t slept because he’d been waiting for a punishment Steve was too incompetent a handler to organise. He felt that seed of bitterness inside him growing. If Steve had reacted properly, he would have arranged for a minor punishment immediately and then Bucky would have been able to sleep afterwards. The reason Bucky hadn’t slept was because Steve had failed to act in the correct way. Bucky would have slept if Sam was his handler, unless sleep deprivation was assigned as a specific punishment. </p><p>Once again, Bucky considered the ways Sam would be a much better handler. </p><p>"Perhaps this isn't the best time to discuss this then," Sam said. He gestured with the tablet. "We talked about therapy a few days ago. I've been doing some research and come up with a shortlist of potential therapists to review, but we can save that for another time." </p><p>"I'm capable of reviewing the list," Bucky said. He didn't want to get in trouble with Sam because he'd rebelled against Steve. </p><p>"Okay," Sam said. "If you're sure." </p><p>He sat down at the table beside Bucky and switched on the screen of his tablet. A woman's face stared out of the screen, along with several paragraphs of text. </p><p>"This is my top choice," Sam said. "Dr Lydia Cain. Ten years of experience working with combat veterans and a specialist in POW experiences. Highly intelligent and well-regarded, and she has all the necessary security clearance. I saw her deliver a paper once on the long-term effects of captivity. She also lives in New York, so she'd be able to come here without any difficulty to do the sessions. There are others though. I came up with eleven people who seem to fit the bill. Let me know which one you want." </p><p>Bucky took the tablet and looked at the text. There was biographical information about the doctor’s birthplace and education. There was a list of books and papers she had written. There was a summary of a professional assessment and a security classification. With a swipe, he was able to change to the file of the next person on Sam’s list, and he saw something very similar. The educational institutions were different and the titles of the papers were new but how was Bucky to know which university was better or which papers showed greater ability? He had his own expertise and skillset but not in this field. </p><p>He skimmed through another of the files before offering the tablet back to Sam. </p><p>“You know what is required,” Bucky said. “You should decide.” </p><p>He wasn’t even sure why Sam had asked his opinion in the first place. He’d never been consulted before about the identities of those who would hurt him. </p><p>“This should be your choice, Buck,” Steve said, but Sam held up a hand to silence him. </p><p>“While Steve is right and your therapist should be your choice,” Sam said, “it’s hard to make a decision like this from what’s on paper. A file doesn’t tell you whether you’ll be able to connect with a person. What I’d suggest is that I arrange an introductory session. You can meet the doctor and see how it goes. If you don’t like her, or don’t feel you can talk to her, then we can arrange a meeting with the next person on the list, and so on. If you don’t like anyone, we can widen the search. It’s important that we find someone you can work with.” </p><p>Bucky nodded. He could work with anyone. It wasn’t like he had a choice in that. Except, he did, apparently. Sam was letting him decide between these people. </p><p>It was strange, but there was some logic behind it. Bucky knew that he had worked better with some handlers than others because of better communication, that some team leaders and commanders had been better able to exploit his talents than others. Usually, Bucky took the blame for any failures, but it seemed Sam understood that sometimes issues came from the other side, or from a poor combination of people. Sam wanted him to work well with this therapist. </p><p>Bucky didn’t want to endure therapy, but if he found someone who he could work well with, perhaps the process would be more efficient and he could be done with it sooner. This was a mercy Bucky hadn’t anticipated. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said. </p><p>“You’re welcome.” Sam’s smile seemed genuine. “I’ll go make the arrangements then and let you know how it turns out.” </p><p>This was further proof that Sam was a better handler than Steve, that he would consider Bucky's effectiveness and plan how best to achieve it. Bucky hoped that Sam making these arrangements was a sign that he might be willing to take over from Steve. </p><p>When Sam was gone, Steve asked if Bucky wanted to go see Bruce or just laze around the apartment. Being lazy was an invitation to punishment, and Bucky had no desire to spend more time along with this false Steve if it wasn’t going to involve rewards. So Bucky walked to the elevator as his answer. Steve accepted that without complaint, but Bucky was still left with the impression that he was failing some test that hadn't properly been explained to him. </p><p>Bruce made no remarks about Bucky’s appearance, but he did comment on the levels of stress hormones in his system and the patterns of brain activity that indicated distress. </p><p>“He had a bad night,” Steve explained, “and we’ve just been picking therapists.” </p><p>Bucky wanted to point out that Sam had picked the therapists. Steve was taking credit for Sam’s work and that wasn’t right, but Bucky couldn’t correct him because he was supposed to keep his head motionless. He wasn’t allowed to talk. He just had to stay silent and listen to Steve lie. </p><p>“I wanted to try something a little differently today,” Bruce said, when the normal scans were over, “but only if you’re up for it. We can always do it another time if you don't feel like it today. I want to track your responses to different stimulus. I’ll tell you to think about different things and see what parts of your brain light up. What do you think?” </p><p>Bucky thought it sounded terrifying. Right now, the inside of his head was all he had. They could violate it and rip parts of him away, but they couldn’t see inside it. They couldn’t know what he was thinking when he was deciding to rebel against Steve or plotting to get a better handler for himself. If Bucky let him scan his head, he would be giving Bruce a clue to what he was thinking. They might punish him if the electrical signals in his brain spiked in the wrong way. But if he refused, they would know he was trying to hide things. If he said he didn't want to do this now, it wouldn't spare him. He would be punished and wiped and then subjected to this anyway. It wasn’t like choices were ever real choices. </p><p>Except for his therapist. Sam was letting him choose his therapist for the list he’d approved. </p><p>It probably wouldn’t make much difference to the pain of the experience, but it still felt like more of a choice than Steve telling him to choose an activity and then getting annoyed at him for choosing wrong. </p><p>“I’ll do it,” Bucky said, because he’d been thinking all this and Bruce was still waiting for an answer. Unlike Steve, Bruce didn't get fidgety and impatient when Bucky took a long time to answer, and he seemed happy with the one Bucky eventually gave. Bruce smiled and had Bucky lie back down under the scanner. </p><p>“I’ll mention a topic and I want you to think about that thing for a minute, and then I’ll give you another topic. Just turn the idea over in your mind. Let’s start simple. Think about a table.” </p><p>So Bucky thought about tables. He thought about the hard ones with straps where the doctors poked and prodded at him to test his healing abilities or his resilience to pain. He thought about the cold surface under his back and the helplessness that came with being in that position. </p><p>“That’s great. Now think about kittens.” </p><p>Kittens. Silly, useless animals. Not a threat. Not a priority. Just there occasionally. There had been a stray cat that wandered over to him once while he was sitting in a sniper’s nest of a rooftop, waiting for a shot to line up. The cat had rubbed against his leg in a way that was almost pleasant, almost a comfort touch, before it had wandered away against when he didn’t move. Had that cat been seeking out a comfort touch the way he had? Except he was thinking about a cat, not a kitten. He was doing the exercise wrong and Bruce would see and then he would be punished for not thinking about the right things. </p><p>“Think about Steve.” </p><p>Steve. This Steve, the liar, Bruce probably meant, but there had been the other Steve’s, all lying, all manipulating him, saying that they cared about not letting him get hurt but allowing the punishments anyway. Just another method used to control him. At least those other Steve’s had been good at it. This Steve was useless. He was going to get Bucky punished because he couldn’t do his job and Bucky wished he could just be rid of him. He wished he could put his fist through that lying smile and be done with it. </p><p>“Think about me.” </p><p>What did Bruce know? What had he been able to read in his machines? Did he know what Bucky had been thinking about Steve? Was he even now preparing to use that knowledge to justify punishment? Was he preparing new machines to bring pain while Bucky was lying here trapped? Was he going to expose every secret thought Bucky had tried to hide and prove that even the inside of his head belonged to his handlers? </p><p>“Sam.” </p><p>Sam was… safer. Sam would be fair. There would be punishments because there always were but Sam didn’t seem the sort to trick and lie and deceive. He would explain what he wanted and give Bucky a fair chance to complete his missions. He was clever, and skilled. He would be easy to work with on a mission because Bucky would never have to doubt his capabilities. They would work well together and then Sam would reward Bucky, would finally use that big bed for a purpose and Bucky would get the touches Steve had refused to let him have. That athletic body would prove skillful in bed as well, utilising his stamina to make the experience last, to draw the pleasure out and make it a truly satisfying reward, but Sam would be gentle with him, his touches soft and careful. </p><p>“Tony.” </p><p>Tony was useful, a mechanic who could work on his arm. He would keep Bucky functional so that he could perform his duties. But he also had reason to hate Bucky. His parents had been among Bucky’s prior targets. It was possible that Tony would want revenge, that he would take advantage of his position to hurt him, and Bucky would be forced to endure it because there was no one else to fix his arm. </p><p>“Guns,” Bruce said, and this was followed by Steve saying, “Bruce,” in a warning tone. But Bucky followed the instructions. He thought about guns, about bullets flying into their targets, about blood and death. </p><p>“Flowers.” </p><p>He’d used flowers as a cover once, walking into a building in a delivery uniform, carrying a bouquet large enough that he could keep it between his face and the security cameras. He had been allowed all the way to the front desk and taken out the receptionist so that he could steal a security pass. Once inside, people had glanced at him but no one had tried to stop him from walking up to the woman who had been his target, pulling the knife out, and slitting her throat. The splatters of blood had added new colour to the flowers. </p><p>And so it continued, with Bruce saying a word and Bucky recalling the thing or incidents involving that thing. </p><p>After some time, Bruce announced that the experiment had come to an end. He removed the scanner and Bucky sat up. </p><p>“What did you learn?” Bucky asked. He wanted to know if he was safe, or if Bruce had uncovered enough to reveal his secrets. </p><p>“A lot of activity associated with fear, anger, and violence,” Bruce answered. “Some associations were more fear-based, some more anger-based, but most were one or the other, or both.” </p><p>“Everything made him scared or angry?” Steve asked. He reached out towards Bucky’s hand but then pulled back. He probably realised that he wasn’t meant to give a comfort touch to something like that. </p><p>“Not... um,” Bruce said then paused. There was a faint trace of pink on Bruce’s cheeks. “Not Sam.” </p><p>Bucky felt another spike of fear. Bruce hadn’t mentioned Steve’s name, so Steve would know that Steve felt the same way about him, that mix of fear and anger and violence. Steve would know that Bucky wanted to do violence against him. Bucky risked a glance at Steve and saw the deep frown, the worry wrinkling his forehead. Steve was probably already thinking about how to make Bucky suffer for this. </p><p>“It’s not surprising that you’d have a lot of negative associations,” Bruce said, “after all you’ve been through. Hopefully we can help you get some good connotations too.” </p><p>He reached out, slowly enough to broadcast his movement, and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. He squeezed gently, a comfort touch. The sort of touch Steve was deliberately avoiding. Maybe Bucky’s reactions hadn’t been too far from what was expected. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble after all. Bucky smiled a little and leaned into Bruce’s touch.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Normally they would go to the gym for training after the scan, but instead of going to his room to change into exercise clothes, Steve hesitated by the elevator. </p><p>"Bucky," he said, slowly, with that frown on his face that promised nothing good, "Bruce said that everything made you scared. That I made you scared. Are you scared of me?" </p><p>"No," Bucky answered. </p><p>"But Bruce..." Steve trailed off. </p><p>Bruce had said that everything made Bucky feel afraid or think of violence, or both. Steve just hadn't listened. His failure to communicate properly went beyond his interactions with Bucky. Steve clearly expected an answer, an explanation for the readings Bruce had made with his scanner. Bucky would have to give him one, and he wasn't allowed to lie to a handler, but that didn't mean he had to include everything. Steve hadn't given him a direct order to report, so he wasn't compelled to include all the relevant details. </p><p>"I thought about you being hurt," Bucky said. He didn't say that he had imagine he was the one inflicting the hurt, but perhaps that would be enough to explain why Bruce would have seen associations of violence and anger when Bucky had been instructed to think about Steve. </p><p>"Oh, Buck," Steve said, because he couldn't even get right the code name he'd assigned. "I... I want to hug you. Is that alright?" </p><p>How could it be right? Steve had said he wasn't going to give reward touches. And why would he want to give a reward for thinking about hurting him? But Bucky couldn't refuse permission for this, even if he wanted to. </p><p>"You can hug me," he said. </p><p>Steve closed the distance between them slowly, hesitantly, so carefully that Bucky thought he might be changing his mind, but then his arms wrapped around Bucky, warmth pressing against him. Bucky hugged Steve back, leaning his head onto his shoulder and closing his eyes, trying to enjoy this moment for as long as it lasted. He might never get another reward from Steve, and he didn't understand why he was getting this one. </p><p>Then Steve said, still holding him close, "I worry about you getting hurt too." </p><p>Bucky knew then that Steve had misunderstood. He'd thought that Bucky was scared about his handler getting hurt and was rewarding him for that reaction. There would be punishment when Bruce clarified that the reaction had been one of anger, not fear, but at least the hug made more sense now, and Bucky didn't have to dispel the misconception himself. </p><p>Steve pulled away and Bucky knew that he hadn't earned anything more than this. </p><p>"I know Bruce said that the drugs HYDRA gave you left you in a heightened state of fear," Steve said, "but I want to do whatever I can to help you feel safe. Do you know what would make you feel safer?" </p><p>"Sam," Bucky said. He didn't want to feel safe. Feeling safe was a trap that led to pain, but at least with Sam he wouldn't have to be constantly on edge waiting for a trap to spring of his handler's misstep to lead him into punishment. </p><p>Steve smiled one of those sad, lying smiles. "Okay. He's probably better at helping you through this than me anyway. I'll talk to Sam about him spending more time with you." </p><p>It wasn't as good as Bucky had hoped, but it was better than nothing. "Thank you." </p><p>---</p><p>Tony noticed Bucky’s state, remarking, “You look like death warmed over,” when he and Steve walked into the lab. </p><p>“I didn’t sleep,” Bucky said. </p><p>“Ugh. Been there. Let me tell you, working for seventy-two hours straight until you pass out on the workshop floor is not the best solution to insomnia. It just gets you a lot of worried looks and Jarvis disabling the coffee machine.” </p><p>“The coffee machine developed an unrelated malfunction, sir.” </p><p>“Sure it did, buddy. There are some little tricks that can help if you’re trying to get to sleep. Jarvis is programmed with a whole bank of nature noises, so you can listen to ocean waves or the sound of rainfall. That can be pretty soothing, stops the silence being too oppressive but it’s like white noise so it doesn’t distract enough to keep you awake. Night lights, so you can see exactly where you are when you wake up from a nightmare. We actually have a bunch of Avengers’ themed ones. They’re aimed at kids, but growing up is overrated. I could get you a Captain America shield nightlight, what do you think?” </p><p>Bucky wasn’t sure how to respond to this onslaught of words. He stared blankly at Tony. </p><p>“No, you’re right,” Tony continued, “Jarvis, order the Iron Man helmet nightlight. Oh, and scented oils. Most of aromatherapy is a complete load of garbage. The people who try to sell you the idea that you can cure cancer by sniffing the right combo of essential oils have got their heads so far up their asses they can only smell shit, but scents are linked to memory. The wrong smell can knock you right back into a bad memory, but a nice smell can keep you grounded, remind you you’re not in a bad place. I recommend lavender. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s a grandma scent; it’s very soothing. Jarvis, order one of those oil defusers and a bottle of lavender oil. You know what, order him a whole packet of different oils. He can figure out which ones he likes. And a bottle of that fancy bubble bath Pepper got me for Christmas. Never underestimate the curative powers of a nice bubble bath. I see you smirking over there, Rogers, but don’t let your forties, heteronormative bull get in between you and a good self-care regime.” </p><p>“Heterowhat?” Steve asked. </p><p>But Tony wasn't listening to Steve. He seemed perfectly capable of having this conversation by himself and didn't seem to need input from either of them. </p><p>"If you want sleeping pills, you'll have to go to Bruce for those. Jarvis refuses to let me order anything stronger than Scotch. Stubborn traitor." </p><p>"May I remind you, sir, that you installed the self-medication protocols yourself." </p><p>Tony dismissed this with a wave of his hand and carried on talking as though Jarvis hadn't interrupted. "Self-hypnosis sleep tapes are a load of bull. Completely worthless. A different mattress might help. I found, when I got back from Afghanistan that I slept better on a firmer mattress.. You want that, just say the word. Or a softer one if you want to be all snuggly. Or one of those fancy memory-foam things. I have no idea if those actually work, but they cost about five times as much as a normal mattress, so one would hope." </p><p>"Could I get a firmer mattress?" Steve asked. </p><p>"What? Sure. Jarvis, put it on the shopping list." </p><p>"Of course, sir." </p><p>"Thank you," Steve said.</p><p>"It's nothing. I have a reputation to maintain. People expect a certain amount of swellegant extravaganza attached to the Stark name. If it gets out that guests in my Tower aren't able to sleep, it reflects badly on me. I'm just being selfish here." </p><p>"It's not selfish," Bucky said, even though arguing was a bad idea and usually led to punishment. Perhaps he should have stayed silent because Tony was trying to downplay his actions in order to avoid negative consequences of his own. It seemed wrong to pretend this was nothing though, when Tony was offering his own money to purchase equipment to solve a problem which might not even exist. Tony was under the impression that Bucky had failed to sleep because of some deficiency in the facilities of the Tower, because Bucky was missing a light or a flower scent. He was spending money to fix a gap that wasn't there. </p><p>But Bucky didn't want to admit that he hadn't slept because he'd been waiting for punishment. He should though, to stop Tony going to unnecessary trouble, and because it would demonstrate that Steve had been deficient in his service as handler. If he admitted that he'd done something deserving of punishment in front of Tony, then there was a good chance he would get the punishment he might otherwise avoid. But his ultimate goal was to stop having Steve as a handler, and a small amount of pain now would be worth it if he could get transferred to Sam. </p><p>"The purchases are unnecessary," he said. "I didn't lack sleep because of a deficiency in the accommodation. I didn't sleep because I was anticipating punishment." </p><p>"Punishment?" Tony said. "For what?" </p><p>"Steve wanted me to watch a TV show with him. I chose not to. I left the room without instruction to do so or even permission." </p><p>"You thought you'd be punished for walking out of a room without asking?" Tony seemed astonished by this. Perhaps he wasn't aware of the details of rules that should apply to assets. After all, he was a technician and not a handler. </p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Bucky," Steve said slowly, the frown back on his face, "when you said you were anticipating punishment, you didn't think that I would punish you, did you?" </p><p>"No." </p><p>"Good. Because I wouldn't punish you. I wouldn't hurt you, and especially not for something as trivial as that." </p><p>"I know you wouldn't hurt me," Bucky told him. None of the other Steves had punished him. Even Alex hadn't ever really punished him, aside from an occasional slap. It was always someone else who administered the punishment. Steve might give the order, but it wouldn't be his hand that dealt the blows. So he added, just to make things clear to Tony, who didn't know the rules, "I still expected someone to punish me for it." </p><p>Tony waved a hand vaguely at him, "Knowing you're safe and feeling safe are two very different things. I'll buy the stuff anyway. You don't have to use it, but it might help next time you get anxious and can't get your brain to shut up about stuff you know isn't logical to worry about." </p><p>Steve reached out an put a hand on Bucky's arm, his flesh arm. Bucky looked at it, wondering what he was being rewarded for. Was it for admitting to his transgression? </p><p>Whatever the reason, it appeared this part of the conversation was over. Tony began with another scan of the arm, talking about the power circuit in the shoulder. It apparently was designed to draw electrical power from the human body in order to power the components of the metal arm. </p><p>"The math just doesn't add up though," Tony said. "There's a small electrical current going through every person alive, but it's tiny, minuscule, basically irrelevant. Dad designed his self-charging core to draw power from a constant, low-level source, but no matter how efficient he made it, there just wouldn't be enough electricity in the body to keep it charged up." </p><p>"But it's in there," Steve said. "It's working. Right?" </p><p>"Right. But it doesn't make sense. Dad discarded his research because the best he could do was slow down the rate at which it ran out of power by such a marginal amount that it wasn't worth the effort. Someone else must have picked up his research, but it doesn't look like this power core works any better than the prototypes he described in his notes. The only way anyone could make use of something like this would be if the amount of electricity running through the body was increased." </p><p>"The wipe process involves electricity," Bucky said. </p><p>"Into your arm?" </p><p>"My head." </p><p>"Ouch. Well, I guess that might explain it. You'd have to be electrocuted with a pretty serious charge on a pretty regular basis though." </p><p>"Tasers and electric batons are a frequent component of punishments," Bucky said. </p><p>"Were," Steve said. Bucky frowned at him, taking a moment to work out why he'd said that. Steve didn't want to use electricity as punishments now he knew. Did that mean he wanted the arm to lose functionality? </p><p>"As it stands, we're going to have to come up with a backup approach soon," Tony said. "At the current rate, I reckon you've got about a week before the core loses power. The simplest approach would be to open the arm up and replace the core with a long-term power supply. I could build something based on the arc reactor technology that would fit in the space." </p><p>"The simplest approach would be to electrocute me on a regular basis," Bucky pointed out. That had been proven effective at keeping the arm operational, and wouldn't require building something new, if Bucky had misinterpreted Steve's statement and they did intend for him to continue using the arm. </p><p>"Don't even joke about that," Steve said, a sharpness in his tone that made Bucky flinch internally. He looked away from Steve, studying the hovering image of the insides of his arm because it was easier than looking at that lying face. </p><p>Bucky didn't apologise. Apologies didn't diminish the punishment. </p><p>"The problem is that the power core is in there deep, connected to everything," Tony continued. "I'd have to take half the upper arm apart to get at it. It might be better to just build a whole new arm from scratch." </p><p>"You can do that?" Steve asked. </p><p>"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that offensive question. Of course I can build a new arm. Fundamentally, a lot of the same principles apply to my armour the only difference is the control mechanism. Here, Barnes' arm gets its instructions directly from his nervous system, rather than via mechanical or electrical input, but I can make use of the connections that are already there. The Hydra bastards already grafted the thing onto his nervous system, so I can just hook into that framework." </p><p>There was a moment of silence and Bucky was still studying the holographic diagram, so he didn't notice that they were looking at him, waiting for him to say something. </p><p>"What do you think?" Steve asked. </p><p>"The new arm would be more power efficient?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"More efficient. Lighter. Not reliant on torture for its power. What more do you need to know?" </p><p>"How much lighter?" Bucky thought of the sight of Sam in flight, the wings on his back giving him such an advantage. If his arm was lighter, would it be possible that he would be able to use wings like those? An experience like that would be worth the undoubtedly painful medical procedure that would be required to fit the new arm. </p><p>"Twenty percent, maybe thirty. I'll see what I can do about replacing the larger components with lighter equivalents." </p><p>"Without reducing its effectiveness." </p><p>"What do you take me for? An amateur? I'm not going to give you an inferior arm. What do you say?" </p><p>"Yes," Bucky said. He wasn't sure why they needed him to give an affirmative, but they clearly expected him to. If this would give him a lighter arm that wouldn't require electrical shocks to keep powered up, he would be foolish to say otherwise, regardless of whether or not they meant to give him a real choice. </p><p>"Cool. I'll get right on that," Tony said. </p><p>"Thank you." Bucky had never thanked his technicians before but it felt appropriate. Tony was not just repairing his arm but giving him a better one, improving on the old designs. Maybe, just maybe, he was giving Bucky a chance to fly as well. </p><p>"You're welcome. Now go take a nap or something. I've got work to go." </p><p>Bucky took the dismissal for what it was and walked to the elevator. Steve only lingered a moment or two before following. </p><p>"He's a good guy," Steve said, on the elevator back to the apartment. "A bit like a steamroller sometimes, but he means well. I think he's mad that his dad had something to do with your arm, even if it was indirectly, so he wants to make up for it. He'll do a good job on your arm." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He didn't give voice to his hopes. There was no point in telling anyone that he wanted something. He would only get it if they thought it would be strategically valuable and only if they thought the idea was theirs. He would have to find some way to indicate a willingness to try the wings without outright asking for them. </p><p>To do that, it would be easier if he could spend more time with Sam, but he wasn't sure how to ask for that, anymore than he knew how to indicate that Sam would be a better handler. Perhaps he wouldn't need to do any more. Perhaps Tony would report back what Bucky had said about punishment and how Steve had failed to arrange it. Perhaps Sam would be preparing to transfer Bucky before the end of the day. </p><p>Sam usually came to join them in the afternoon. Bucky would wait and see if there were any indications of the change when that happened.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam came to the apartment as usual, but not for games. He spoke quietly with Steve for a few minutes and then Steve left them alone together, but Bucky didn't think that he was getting the transfer he wished for given that Steve didn't take any of his belongings with him. Once they were alone, Sam gave him the news that Bucky's first session with the therapist had been arranged. Bucky would have a meeting the next day with Dr Lydia Cain. </p><p>"The first session is mostly about seeing if you can work with her, trying to establish a rapport. I've given her a brief summary of your case, but I'm sure she'll have a lot of questions for you about what you've been through. It's going to be difficult, but I want you to remember that this is all about helping you get better." </p><p>"If I get better, then will I be allowed on missions?" </p><p>He hoped for a yes. He hoped for a promise that he would be allowed to be useful again, to have a purpose. He wanted Sam to say that they would go on missions together. </p><p>Instead, he got, "Maybe but not right away. Recovery isn't something that happens overnight, so you won't be in a state to see action for a while, and besides, a lot of people would have to approve a decision like that." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He would have to prove himself. He just wasn't sure how if he wasn't allowed to do combat training. He wasn't allowed to practice his skills so how was he supposed to get better? It was alarming what Sam said about recovery. He'd known from everything else they'd said that therapy would be painful but, given his accelerated healing, he wouldn't have expected to be put out of action for long. That Sam was indicating an indefinite amount of time was concerning. </p><p>He had to trust that Sam knew what he was doing, that the therapy, however painful, would make Bucky a better soldier. That was all Bucky wanted, because if he could be the best soldier he was capable of being then he would get rewarded. </p><p>Once he had delivered this news, Sam asked about the lack of sleep. Steve or Tony must have reported to him what Bucky had said because Sam said, in his gentle tone. "I gather that something happened yesterday that made you feel like you would be punished." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He explained again about choosing not to watch the TV show with Steve. He didn't like admitting to an infraction in front of Sam, not when he wanted Sam to be his handler and approve him for combat, but he had to answer honestly. </p><p>"You're in a safe place now," Sam said. "No one here wants to hurt you." </p><p>"No one?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Did you think someone would?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. "Tony doesn't like me. I killed his mom." </p><p>"Tony won't hurt you," Sam said. "For one thing, he knows that everything you did for HYDRA, you were forced to do." </p><p>Bucky nodded his agreement at that. Everything he did was a result of orders he was compelled to follow. </p><p>"For another thing," Sam continued, "Steve would kick his ass if he tried." </p><p>Did that mean Tony wasn't authorised to provide punishments? That was good to know. But Bucky had been paying careful attention to Sam's words. Sam had said that no one here would want to hurt him, but he hadn't said that they wouldn't, aside from Tony. Sam might punish him but not enjoy doing so. Perhaps that was why he hadn't been punished so far; these people didn't like giving out punishments and so they would only do so if his behaviour was extremely bad. Or perhaps they were saving up punishments to get them all over with in one go. </p><p>"You've spent seventy years being conditioned to except pain and punishment," Sam said. "That's not going to go away in a couple of days or even a couple of weeks just because you’re somewhere you won’t be punished anymore, but it will get easier. Dr Cain may be able to give you advice or techniques to help you with feeling safe. I'd give you some suggestions of my own, but you're seeing her tomorrow so it's probably best you wait and get advice from the professional." </p><p>Bucky nodded, because Sam was looking at him like he expecting a response even though the statement about not being punished here didn’t make sense. Would he be sent somewhere else for punishment? He didn't like the idea of feeling safe because feeling safe was a trap that meant he wouldn't see the attack coming, but he couldn't express that to a handler. He didn't know why Sam would want him to be lured into letting his guard down, but maybe Sam didn't mean it like that. Maybe he just meant that Bucky would be less confused. At the moment, he was waiting for the next punishment because he didn't know what Steve expected of him, didn't know how to keep him happy. Having a better handle on his handler's desire would take the edge off his anxiety without making him lose his edge in other ways. </p><p>"Is any of this making sense?" Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky nodded again, but he suspected that wouldn't be enough of an answer, so he repeated back the key points Sam had told him. "I have an appointment with Dr Cain tomorrow, who can help me get better and feel safe but it will take some time. No one here wants to punish me, except maybe Tony, but Steve will keep him from hurting me." </p><p>"Good," Sam told him. "You're not with HYDRA anymore, but I know that us telling you you're safe here and you actually feeling safe are two very different things. People get learned responses from years of suffering and it's hard to move past them. You will have expectations from your time as the Winter Soldiers, things like expecting punishment for walking out of a room, and it will take some time for you to adjust to those things not being the case anymore. I can tell you that you're allowed to leave a room whenever you feel like it and that no one will punish you for it but even if you believe me on a conscious level, you can't make your subconscious accept it right away." </p><p>"Can I just walk out of the room whenever I want though?" Bucky asked. "Steve told me I have to be accompanied to leave the apartment. It was part of the condition for me being transferred to his custody. There are areas of the gym that Tony says I'm not allowed to use." </p><p>"When you put it like that, you have a point," Sam said. "It's all well and good me and Steve talking about you being free, but as far as the United States government is concerned, you're still in custody. It must be hard to feel like you've been rescued while you're still effectively a prisoner here. Tell you what, we'll see what Dr Cain makes of you at your first session and see if we can make enquiries about lifting some of the restrictions. Getting out of the Tower is probably not going to be on the cards for a while but we can give you some more freedom in here." </p><p>"Thank you," said Bucky, because it was probably expected, not because of what Sam was saying. He wasn't sure what he would do with more freedom. Already he felt lost and adrift with so many choices, with Steve asking him to pick things and then not telling him when he picked the wrong answer. Perhaps Sam might understand if Bucky found the right words, the right way to say it that wouldn't sound like a criticism of a handler or questioning of protocols. </p><p>"I'm used to orders," he said. "Clear parameters. I can make choices. On missions, I would be given a definite set of mission objectives and there might be some restrictions or additional factors, like getting in and out without being seen, and I would make decisions based on the circumstances in the field for how to best achieve the objectives with the equipment and resources to hand, but in those cases there were clear boundaries. Now, there are no boundaries. The criteria for judging a correct decision are ill-defined. Choosing a movie out of a list of hundreds is very different from choosing a point of entry for a hit." </p><p>"You struggle with the choices Steve is asking you to make?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"Do you want him to make more choices for you or to simplify the choices by giving you a clear list of options to choose from?" </p><p>"Yes," Bucky said again. "Or parameters for success." </p><p>"How do you mean?" </p><p>"If he wants me to choose what to have for food, should I be choosing based on which one has the most calories to restore the deficit from my period of malnutrition? Or based on which will provide the most vitamins and other nutrients? Should I be choosing based on the cost of the ingredients? Should I pick one thing that can be given consistently or should I pick different things each time I'm asked so that my food intake is varied to reduce the risk of nutritional deficiencies? Or do the shakes that Bruce provided give me enough of the required nutrients that the nutritional value of the food is irrelevant?" </p><p>"You've thought a lot about this." </p><p>"Steve asks me what I want to eat and I don't know what the correct answer is because I don't know what the success criteria are, what the mission goal is." </p><p>Sam gave him a long look before answering and Bucky wondered if he'd crossed the line, if expressing this frustration would lead to punishment because he was demanding things of his handler, but how could asking for clarity of his mission be a bad thing when his handler was so poor? </p><p>"I knew that you were struggling with the change from being with HYDRA," Sam said at last, "and that's only natural, but it feels like we're missing some fundamental things here. You're talking about success criteria and mission goals but... life isn't like a HYDRA mission, not in that way. People set their own goals. Right now, Steve's main goals are keeping you safe and making you happy. That's what he cares about. He wants to protect you from HYDRA and from the people who want to make an example of you for the missions you did for them. He wants to protect you from your own trauma, and he wants to help you be safe and comfortable and happy again, however long it takes to achieve that." </p><p>Sam kept talking about HYDRA as a separate organisation, as something apart from the group he and Steve belonged to. He had thought that Sam and Steve were SHIELD, and since SHIELD was HYDRA that meant that the standard operating procedures would be more of the same, but perhaps that assumption had been incorrect. This might explain what Sam meant about missing some fundamental things, and why Steve's behaviour was so difficult to interpret and predict, and why his protocols for reward were different. </p><p>Bucky had fought against Sam and Steve for HYDRA so he ought to have realised this sooner. He hadn't just been transferred from one division to another but extracted, acquired, stolen. He supposed it didn't really matter to him who he belonged to, though he wondered how they knew about the Steve protocol if they were a separate organisation. </p><p>"I don't think I know how to be happy," Bucky said. "That's not something HYDRA left me with when they performed wipes on my mind." </p><p>"Then that's something to talk to your therapist about. She can help." </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"When Steve asks your opinion on things," Sam continued, "there's not an objectively right or wrong answer. It's about your preferences. Like, I like pepperoni on my pizza. If we're going to order takeout and someone asks me what I want on my pizza, most of the time I'm going to pick pepperoni. That doesn't meant that pizza is objectively better than any other topping, it's just the one that I like best. But if I've eaten pepperoni pizza recently and someone asks me, I might decide to go for, I dunno, BBQ chicken instead, just for a change. It doesn't mean that pepperoni is now wrong, it just means that I'm not in the mood for it. Those are the sort of choices Steve is asking you about. He wants to give you things that make you smile, or let you do things you enjoy. I'll talk to Steve about giving you fewer choices, but try not to stress out too much about the ones he gives you, just go with whatever seems best to you. There won't be a wrong answer." </p><p>Bucky didn't want to contradict a handler but this was important. He considered his phrasing. He didn't want to make this sound like his fault so that he would be punished. </p><p>"Steve acts like there are wrong answers." That sounded like he was criticising a handler and he might be punished for that, but Steve might also be punished if he was doing things Sam thought he wasn't supposed to. </p><p>"How do you mean?" </p><p>"When I pick physical training, Steve acts like that's something I can choose, but if I train too long or put too much effort in, he... he gets upset, but he doesn't tell me he's upset. He doesn't just tell me to stop, or set a limit. I had to work it out from how much he's frowning at me. And I don't know if I'm doing something wrong because I keep asking for training because he doesn't tell me. He says he wants me to choose but then gets upset when I choose something he doesn't like." Bucky fell silent. He felt like he'd said too much. </p><p>"I'll talk to Steve about that," Sam promised. "He worries about you. My guess is that he's worried that you're going to hurt yourself or that you're training because you think you need to not because you want to." </p><p>"I'm not going to hurt myself on a treadmill," Bucky said. "I know my capabilities." </p><p>"Okay. I'll talk to Steve about backing off and letting you train how you'd like. Do you want that?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>It wasn't as good as Sam taking over, but he'd take it. </p><p>"And I'll talk to Steve about being clearer when he's worried and using his words so that he doesn't worry you." </p><p>"Thank you." </p><p>"I know this is a major transition for you, Bucky," Sam said, "but you can ask me questions if you get confused about anything, and you can tell me if you're worried about something or you want me to talk to Steve about something. I want to help you. If I'm not around, ask JARVIS and he'll let me know and I'll come talk to you." </p><p>"I can ask to speak to you at any time?" Bucky asked. He could already see the risks involved, the dangers of upsetting Sam and earning punishment if he took this permission too far. "What if you're busy or asleep?" </p><p>"Anytime. If something upsets you in the middle of the night, like a nightmare or a fight with Steve, you can call me. If I'm busy, I might not be able to come and see you right away, but you can always ask." </p><p>Bucky wanted to verify that there wouldn't be punishment for this, but he thought Sam might get annoyed or upset if he asked that. Sam had said he didn't want to hurt Bucky. He didn't want to punish him. He wouldn't tell him he had permission just to trick him into doing something that warranted punishment. Sam was a good handler and he'd told Bucky that this was allowed, so Bucky would accept that as truth. If he asked for Sam and was punished for it in the future, he would reassess, but Sam wasn't Steve. He didn't lie with his very existence. Bucky would choose to believe him. For now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I ended up re-writing this chapter massively from its first draft but this is such an important scene. Bucky's first therapy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, Bucky got into the elevator without Steve, allowed to travel without accompaniment because this was apparently a private thing. He was to go to therapy by himself, without Steve watching his every move, without even Sam. There could be no doubt that this would hurt. The Steves didn't like to see Bucky get hurt, so they often left when it happened, or let others take Bucky somewhere else for punishment. This Steve, who otherwise watched him near constantly, was letting him go alone, which meant that this would be terrible, but he'd already known that. Sam had warned him it would hurt. He'd said that no one in the Tower wanted to hurt him, but his therapist hadn't been in the Tower when he'd said that, so Sam hadn't really been lying even though Bucky was convinced this would be agonising. </p><p>The elevator door opened and Bucky emerged into a long hallway. Meeting rooms on either side were empty. Presumably it would be difficult to use them for their purposes over the sound of his screaming. A few doors down, there was an office and the woman who sat at the desk matched the photo from the file. </p><p>Bucky stood to attention in the doorway, not daring to enter the room without permission, but not wanting to announce his presence too overtly. She noticed him arrive anyway. She looked up at him and beckoned him in with a smile. </p><p>"You must be Bucky. You can call me Lydia." </p><p>He walked in and stood to attention in front of the desk. </p><p>"Please, have a seat." </p><p>He sat down in front of the desk, the leather of the seat surprisingly padded. The arms on either side looked too flimsy to attach restraints to and the little wheels underneath might make the chair move awkwardly if he started thrashing in pain. Perhaps this was just the preliminary. After all, Sam had said this was about establishing rapport rather than the real therapy. Perhaps there would be more serious restraints next time if this session proved successful. He just wasn't sure how to make this successful, how to be better. He didn't know what was expected of him. </p><p>"Is it alright if I call you Bucky?" Lydia said. "Or would you prefer James? Or Sergeant Barnes?" </p><p>It was a preference question, but unlike Steve, she gave him a small selection of options. </p><p>"Bucky." That question was easy. Bucky was the name Steve had given him, the one Sam used. That was the correct name. Sergeant Barnes made it sound like he was a person with rank, not an asset. That idea made him uncomfortable because then people might treat him like a person and he wouldn't know how to respond to that. </p><p>"Mr Wilson has given me some information on your situation, but I want to go over the preliminaries myself, to make sure we're both on the same page as it were. The purpose of today's meeting is for me to understand your situation and current mental state, and hopefully together we can start putting together a framework of goals for things you want to achieve of the course of the therapy, but don't worry if we don't get to that today. Now, before we start, do you have any questions you want to ask me?" </p><p>He had many questions: how long this would take, how much it would hurt, what it would entail. He didn't want to know the answer to any of them. </p><p>"No." </p><p>"Okay. That's fine. If you think of any questions during the session, go ahead and ask them. If anything I say confuses you, I'd rather you interrupt me so that we can resolve the confusion than you sit there politely not understanding." </p><p>Bucky nodded his understanding of that. It was unexpected, but seemed sensible. It was more efficient for him to ask when he was confused rather than try to figure it out after the fact. Perhaps Sam had spoken to her about his problems with Steve's vague instructions. </p><p>"Please start by giving me a summary of who you are, what you've been through, and your current situation," Lydia said. "Take your time if you need to think about it." </p><p>She sat there, still and calm, while Bucky considered how best to explain this in a summary. He knew from Sam that she had security clearance enough to hear anything he told her. He thought over his own memories and the information Sam had given him, trying to sort it out into a logical report that contained the necessary information without extraneous detail. </p><p>"My name is James Buchanan Barnes," he said, reciting the name Steve had given him on the helicarrier. "I don't remember being called that but Steve says it was my name. I was HYDRA's asset, codenamed the Winter Soldier. HYDRA wiped my mind between missions so I have very few episodic memories," he remembered the term Bruce used, "prior to fighting Steve on the helicarrier, but I retain knowledge and skill gained through training with HYDRA and the Soviets, as well as their behaviour protocols. I fought Steve and Sam on the helicarrier but I lost. I failed to complete my mission to kill Steve and HYDRA was unsuccessful. I was cut off and survived on my own for a few months before SHIELD captured me. I was put into Steve's custody and he wants to keep me safe from people who are angry about what I did as the Winter Soldier. He wants me to be happy but I don't know how. Steve has Bruce look into my brain with scanners and Tony look after my left arm. Sam thinks I need therapy to help me get better, so I'm here." </p><p>He stopped. He didn't know if that was enough of a report for her, but she had said she wanted it to be a summary. </p><p>"There's a lot to unpack in that," Lydia said. "One thing I note is that you didn't really talk about your feelings, except when you mentioned not knowing how to be happy. I'm sure we'll have a lot to discuss on that front." </p><p>"Sam said I should talk to you about that." </p><p>"Before we talk about being happy, can you tell me how you feel right now?" </p><p>Bucky considered the question. He could answer about his physical state, that he felt no injuries that would impair him and that he was not experiencing any major hunger or thirst that would be causes for concerns, that his bladder was not full enough to make him likely to urinate on himself when the pain started. He didn't think that was what she meant though. Answering about emotions was more difficult. He considered what answer he could give, but the longer he took, the more concerned he was that he would be punished for lack of promptness in his reply, but that at least gave him an answer. </p><p>"Anxiety," he said. "Fear." </p><p>"Is there a particular focus to your fear? Is there anything specific that is the source for the anxiety?" </p><p>"I don't know what this therapy will be like. Sam said it would be difficult but he didn't give any details. I don't know what you expect me to do." </p><p>Lydia gave a smile, a gentle expression without a trace of cruelty to it. </p><p>"What I expect you to do is just this. We're here to talk, to try and work through your emotions and mental state, to help you reach a point of stability. To help you, as you mentioned earlier, learn how to be happy. Sometimes a topic will be difficult, or exploring a particular point of trauma might make you feel things you don't want to experience again, but the goal is to tackle those difficult subjects in a safe environment, so we can help you deal with them. What I would ask of you is honest consideration and honest answers. I say 'ask' there and not 'expect' because sometimes that's easier said than done." </p><p>Bucky expected her to say more, but she appeared to have finished. "That's all therapy is? We... talk?" </p><p>"You say 'that's all' as though it's easy. Talking can sometimes be very difficult when we get onto difficult topics. You might not always want to say what you're thinking and there might be subjects you want to avoid." </p><p>Because saying what he was thinking led to punishment, of course. </p><p>"Who do you report to?" he asked. </p><p>"What do you mean?" </p><p>"The things I tell you here. Who do you tell them to? Steve? Or Sam? Someone else?" </p><p>"I won't tell anyone. What happens in these sessions is confidential. Nothing leaves these walls. The only exception to that is if I believe you're a threat to yourself or others. If I think you will hurt someone, I might need to inform the authorities to keep that from happening. Aside from that, everything you say, stays between us." </p><p>Bucky was already thinking of loopholes to that. Perhaps she would expect Bucky to confess any transgressions he acknowledged here himself. Perhaps the room was being surveilled and she wouldn't have to say anything. After all, JARVIS seemed to be everywhere in this tower. She wasn't even really lying if JARVIS was watching and choosing punishments because he wasn't really a person. </p><p>"I know trust can be difficult," Lydia said. "You've spent a long time being lied to and used. Trusting someone new, especially someone you just met, is a lot to ask, so I won't ask you to trust me. I just ask that you give me a chance to demonstrate that I'm telling the truth." </p><p>He could put that to the test easily enough. If he told her something that would get him punished and he was punished after a session, he would know she was lying. </p><p>"I could tell you anything and you won't tell anyone else?" </p><p>"Aside from the exceptions I already mentioned, yes. I promise. I want this to be a safe space, somewhere you feel you can talk freely, about whatever is on your mind. I know you were forced to do a lot of awful things for HYDRA and I won't judge you for them or anything else you might have had to do to survive. This is a space free from blame." </p><p>"What about punishments?" he asked. </p><p>"No punishments. I'm here to help you, Bucky, not to hurt you. Your situation is an unusual one, but you're here in Steve's custody as a precaution, not as a punishment. There are people who are afraid of the Winter Soldier, afraid of what you might do if you were free, who you might hurt, so you being here is a reassurance to those people that you're not going to be out there on a killing spree, but the Avengers know that you were the victim not the villain. So long as you're under the Avengers' protection, there's not going to be any sort of punishment." </p><p>Bucky nodded. It was a strange arrangement, but it explained why he hadn't been punished so far. Right now, he was under the protection of the Avengers, whoever they were, and so he couldn't be punished while that protection lasted. But the way Lydia had phrased it implied that the protection wouldn't be a permanent thing. No doubt Steve and Sam and the others were keeping a list of all the things he'd done that merited punishment and they were saving up to punish him once that protection was lifted. </p><p>It would make it more difficult to know if Lydia could be trusted though. If he told her something and the punishment didn't come until much later, he wouldn't be certain of a connection, wouldn't know she'd lied to him until it was too late. Perhaps he shouldn't test her then. </p><p>"You said earlier that you feel anxious and you mentioned punishments just then. Is that something that makes you anxious? Do you expect to be punished?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"What sort of things do you expect to be punished for?" </p><p>That was a sneaky question. He had to answer it because he was here to talk and he was expected to answer direct questions, but she was effectively asking him to list everything he'd done wrong since he'd got here. He thought again about the glaring holes in her promise not to tell anyone, and just because she said she wouldn't punish him didn't mean other people wouldn't. </p><p>"Speaking out of turn," he said. "I helped myself to a drink of water without getting permission. I left the room when Steve wanted me to watch TV with him. I tried to manipulate Steve into giving me a reward by touching his genitals without his consent." </p><p>Lydia's eyes widened a little at that last point but she stayed quiet, waiting for Bucky to continue. Bucky wondered if he had to list every thought he'd had as well, his desires that he knew he wasn't supposed to have. </p><p>"I want Sam to be my handler," he said, quietly, even though he knew the volume of his words wouldn't have any effect on the amount of pain he was subjected to. </p><p>He let it rest there and, after Lydia gave him another minute of silence, she seemed to understand that he'd said all the things he was going to say. </p><p>"The things you started with, none of them are anything wrong. You're allowed to speak, to express your thoughts and opinions. You're allowed to get a drink if you're thirsty. If you don't want to watch TV, you don't have to watch TV. No one is going to punish you for those things. I know that me telling you that might not stop you feeling anxious, or feeling like you might be punished, but you should hear it. The next time you want to do one of those things, try saying out loud, 'I'm allowed to do this.' It's a small thing but it might help stop the irrational anxieties telling you that you're going to be punished for doing something perfectly normal." </p><p>Bucky nodded. It was strange to hear that he was allowed to do those things and he wasn't sure she was really in a position to make judgements about what he was or wasn't supposed to do, but he could try and if Sam or Steve objected he could tell them that Lydia had said it was allowed. </p><p>"Moving on, you talked about manipulating Steve into rewarding you and touching his genitals as part of the same thing. Tell me more about this incident." </p><p>Bucky explained what he'd done, summing up the events of that night and how Sam had explained things to him afterwards about needing permission to touch. Lydia listened silently throughout the explanation. </p><p>When he reached the end, she prompted, "But you said you touched Steve to get a reward. What does reward mean to you?" </p><p>"There are different levels of reward," he said. "Soft touches. Gentle touches. A hand on the arm or shoulder. A hug. For very good behaviour, the reward is an orgasm." </p><p>The only sign of anger that showed on Lydia's face was the way she pressed her lips together, but it was still there. Bucky braced himself for pain despite all the comments about how he wasn't going to be punished for things yet. She was angry at him for trying to get a reward orgasm from Steve when he hadn't earned it. </p><p>"When you were HYDRA's asset, they used sex as a reward for good behaviour?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"And the only time you were allowed to have an orgasm was when someone from HYDRA decided you'd been good enough?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"Have you had an orgasm since you left HYDRA?" </p><p>"No." </p><p>Lydia dragged a hand over her face before she spoke again. </p><p>"Okay, Bucky, this is going to be a big topic. I think this one is something we're going to have to spend a lot of time working through. For now, I'm just going to tell you a few important things. Firstly, the way you were treated by HYDRA was wrong. Sex is a normal, biological process and it shouldn't be used as a punishment or reward. Withholding sex and controlling your ability to orgasm was as much a part of the abuse you suffered as the punishments. Likewise, hugs and normal physical contact shouldn't be used as a reward. You are a human being and you should be allowed to touch or be touched by other people how you want, so long as the other people are okay with it too. What Sam told you about consent was important, but you are allowed to ask for a hug whenever you want, without it being conditional on your behaviour. When it comes to sex things are more complicated and I think Sam has a good point about waiting for now until you've figured through some of these issues some more, but that doesn't stop you from doing things on your own." </p><p>"On my own?" </p><p>"Yes. It's called masturbation. You stimulate yourself to get an orgasm without anyone else being involved. It's not a thing you should do in public, but if you're on your own in your bedroom or bathroom, you can do it. It may be strange at first if you're used to sex being something given to you as a reward, but I think learning to take control of your sexuality will be an important part of your healing." </p><p>"I'm allowed to give myself a reward?" </p><p>"Try not to think of it as a reward. It's a normal part of life that can give you pleasure. But yes, you're allowed to do it." </p><p>She was quiet for a bit longer, letting that thought sit with Bucky. It was a strange concept, giving reward touches to himself. The idea might never have occurred to him without his conversation. He wasn't sure how it would help him get better. How would he be motivated to improve if he could reward himself whenever he chose, regardless of his behaviour? </p><p>He wondered if he ought to ask Sam or Steve about it, to make sure it was really allowed before he tried it. It might be safer, but he risked them saying no. Perhaps he would try it once, for himself, before he talked to Sam about it. </p><p>"Touch isn't just about sex and orgasms though," Lydia said. "I think getting more comfortable with casual contact will be important for you as well. Before our next session, I want you to try asking for a hug, not because you think you've done something that merits a reward but just because you feel like it. The next time you want a hug from someone, just ask them." </p><p>"I can ask for a hug whenever I feel like one? It's allowed?" Bucky asked, because again the idea seemed astonishing in concept. An asset wasn't supposed to want, wasn't supposed to ask, was just supposed to accept whatever was given to him. </p><p>"Yes," Lydia confirmed. "It's allowed. Listen to whether the person you're asking says yes or no, but you're always allowed to ask. I think there are probably a lot of things that you're allowed to do that no one has told you you're allowed because we take them for granted. Things like getting a drink of water. I suspect that Steve and Sam didn't tell you that you were allowed to get a drink whenever you're thirsty because that's not something they've ever considered not being allowed. It's a big change for you and I think you will have to ask a lot of questions. Don't just assume that a thing isn't allowed because it wasn't before. Ask Sam and Steve whether you're allowed to do something. It's on them as well to help you. Tell them that you don't know what is and isn't allowed to try and get them to spell things out." </p><p>Bucky nodded. Asking if he was allowed to do things was terrifying, because if he asked about things that weren't allowed, they might think he was trying to break the rules, but he had permission from Lydia. He could frame it as a thing he'd been told to do by his therapist, by the person Sam had sent him to, and perhaps that would make it alright. </p><p>"In any environment, there are certain social rules, and certain expectations, things that are considered normal parts of behaviour without them being demanded in any overt way. Sometimes there might be deviations from those rules, and the big problem is that these rules might not always be explicitly stated. People assume that everyone knows to behave in a certain way, but that's not going to be the case for you because you're used to a situation where those social expectations were completely different. In your old situation, you were taught the rules, some of them deliberately, but you probably picked up other things, patterns you could predict. You survived by identifying those patterns, whether consciously or unconsciously, and adapting your behaviour to them. Now, you've been put into an entirely new situation with an entirely new set of rules and expectations. You don't know how to respond to the change, and your experience has taught you that change is usually an indication of something bad. Would you agree with that?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"I don't know what Steve wants from me." </p><p>"In general or do you mean what he wants in specific situations?" </p><p>Bucky considered. "Both. He asks questions but doesn't give options. Sam had to give me the options to choose from. But I don't know what he wants for me. Sam says Steve wants me to be happy but... but I'm not doing anything useful. He's not giving me something to do. And when he gives me options, he sometimes isn't happy with my choices but he doesn't say he's not happy. He just frowns at me and I feel like I'm going to be punished for doing the wrong thing but I don't know what it is that I've done wrong because he doesn't explain it to me." </p><p>This was criticising a handler. This would mean punishment. JARVIS could hear what he was saying and would report on him even if she wouldn't. </p><p>"I can understand why that would be stressful for you, and why it might cause you more anxiety. In terms of Steve's overall goals for you, I can offer a guess base on what I've seen and what you've said. My guess is that Steve knows you have been through an extremely difficult and traumatic experience. He wants you to recover from that, to learn to function in society like a normal person, but he's trying to get you there in stages, while also keeping you safe from your enemies." </p><p>"Function like a normal person?" Bucky queried. </p><p>"Yes. You are a human being, Bucky, but you've been treated like a thing. Learning to be a person again will take time and effort, and learning to be a happy person even more so, but that's why I'm here, to help you through that." </p><p>"Steve wants me to be a person." </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>She was silent for a while, letting that thought sit with him. Bucky wasn't a person. He was an asset. He was a soldier, a weapon, a cog in the machinery of warfare. Being a person was big and complicated and far too much for him to process. He didn't know how. He couldn't change who he was, change every fibre of his being and become something alien. A person. </p><p>It was like all the foundations of his world were crumbling. He wasn't a person. He would try and he wouldn't be able to do it and then they would punish him for failing the mission. He didn't have guidelines and protocols for being a person. He only knew how to be a weapon and reshaping himself... An echo of pain was there in the back of his memory. Being transformed hurt, he knew on some level. Being torn apart and put together as something new was agonising and he didn't think he could survive going through that process again. </p><p>"It's alright. You're safe. You're in Stark Tower in New York city. It's twenty fifteen. No one's going to hurt you." </p><p>Lydia's soft words reached through the layer of panic that surrounded him. They were probably meant to be calming, given their content, but Bucky knew they were lies. No one was going to hurt him? That was clearly false. There was always hurt and being reshaped would hurt more than mere existence. </p><p>"I want you to take a deep breath for me," Lydia said. She was crouched in front of him, lower down than him, non-threating, close but not quite touching. "Slowly. Now hold it and count to three. One. Two. Three. Let it out slowly. Now breathe in slowly, and count to five." She kept going, counting his breaths in and out. Bucky followed the orders and found the press of panic less heavy. </p><p>He was still afraid, but he wasn't going to do anything irrational because of it. He wasn't going to make things worse for himself. </p><p>He continued breathing slowly to Lydia's count until she clearly decided that he had calmed enough. She stopped counting and Bucky began breathing normally, watching her carefully for the repercussions of his giving in to emotions. </p><p>"Are you feeling better now?" Lydia asked. She moved back from him, giving him space. </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"That was something called a panic attack. Do you experience them often?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. </p><p>"Do you want me to fetch you a glass of water?" </p><p>He shook his head. </p><p>She sat down behind her desk again. </p><p>"If you find yourself experiencing panic attacks, we can talk through techniques for dealing with them. I want to talk about what caused it. Is the idea of being treated like a person frightening for you?" </p><p>"I don't know how to become a person," he said. </p><p>"You already are a person, you just haven't been treated like one, but that's the fault of the people who've mistreated you. It's not your fault. Adapting to this new situation, getting used to being treated like a person, that's all stuff I'm here to help you with. Your friends Steve and Sam can help you too." </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"You mentioned Sam earlier. There was a point I wanted to go back to before we were side-tracked. You mentioned wanting him to be your handler." </p><p>"Yes." Bucky wanted to shrink into his seat and disappear. </p><p>"What do you mean by handler?" </p><p>"A handler looks after me," Bucky explained. "Gives me food, takes care of injuries, gives me reward touches when I've been good. A handler provides information and instructions, guidance on how to behave, as well as updates on protocols." </p><p>"Was a handler in charge of you when you went on missions? Like a mission commander?" </p><p>"No. Commanders were different. Commanders were in the field. They gave orders and mission objectives. Handlers were for after, for taking care of me and... and rewarding me." </p><p>"You've mentioned reward touches twice there. You're talking about sex again? You want to have sex with Sam?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"Have you told Sam this?" </p><p>"No." Bucky wasn't allowed to request a transfer. The thought of telling Sam was terrifying. </p><p>"I think you'd best stick to hugs in the short term," Lydia said. "Like we said earlier, sex is a difficult topic and I don't think you're ready to go there in terms of interpersonal relationships. As for the rest, guidance and food, that's more achievable. Perhaps when you leave here, you could ask him for guidance on how you're supposed to behave." </p><p>Bucky nodded again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam was waiting with Steve in the apartment when Bucky returned. He had a nervous look on his face but Steve looked almost scared. Would Steve be punished if the therapy wasn't successful? </p><p>"How did it go?" Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky considered how he ought to respond to that. He thought about all Lydia had told him, and the tasks she'd set him. If he was expected to report on the therapy, it would explain why Lydia had told him she wouldn't. Bucky would have to think hard about organising everything that had been discussed into a succinct report without leaving out anything important. It would make it easier if Sam could just watch the surveillance. That way Bucky wouldn't be accused of leaving anything out. Sam might watch the surveillance anyway, in which case he might only want a brief highlight of the important points. </p><p>"Lydia said that she won't tell anyone what we talked about. Does that mean I have to report to you the specifics of what we discussed myself?" </p><p>"No," Sam said. "Therapy is confidential, between you and your therapist. You only tell us what you want to tell us, and that can be nothing. If you want to keep it all private, that's perfectly acceptable. When I asked how it went, I meant in general terms, whether you found it helpful or difficult, whether you think you can work with her. I don't need to know the details." </p><p>"She gave me tasks to perform," Bucky said, "and told me that some things were allowed that I hadn't known were allowed." He wanted to tell Sam this because then Sam would know he was following instructions and not just acting in violation of protocol on his own. He wasn't sure if that would make a difference to the punishments. "She told me I could ask for a hug any time I want." </p><p>"Absolutely," Steve said, "Anytime you want." Because of course Steve would lie. He had already refused to give reward touches and pulled his hand back from contact on many occasions, so it was clear Bucky couldn't have hugs whenever he wanted, especially not given all the conversations about consent. </p><p>Bucky fought to give voice to the words, knowing that they would probably cause trouble for him, but knowing that he had to follow Lydia's instructions. He forced the words out and said, "I want a hug." </p><p>He didn't expect Sam to say yes, but he thought it possible Sam might give him instructions on how to earn one. </p><p>Beside him, Steve moved, arms raising. Bucky turned, stepping back slightly so that he would at least be able to see the blows coming, even if he wasn't allowed to defend himself. He hadn't expected Steve to punish him directly, especially not after everything he'd said, but perhaps he, like Alex, didn't see a single slap as a real punishment. </p><p>Steve froze, frowning at him. He looked at Sam. </p><p>"Bucky," Sam said, stepping forward. "When you said you wanted a hug, did you mean from me?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Sam gave Steve a little pat on the arm as he passed him, opening his arms out. Bucky stepped into the hug. He felt the warmth of Sam's strong arms around him, gentle and soothing despite the potential power there. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the moment. There would be consequences for this, there would be hurt, but right now he was warm and held, and that was a moment to savour. This was something else Lydia had mentioned, talking about enjoying the good moments when they happened, trying to hold onto the feeling. </p><p>It ended all too soon, with Sam stepping back. Whatever hurt followed, Bucky was glad he'd asked. </p><p>"What do you want to do now?" Steve asked. </p><p>Sam was here, the therapy causing a change in the normal schedule for the day, so Bucky might have asked to play the lying game, but Bucky wanted to show Sam what else he was capable of. Sam had said he would talk to Steve about not restricting his training, so hopefully he would be able to show his true abilities. </p><p>"Physical training," he said. He looked at Sam, not sure how to ask if Sam wanted to come with them, but Sam seemed to get the message. </p><p>"I guess I could jog for a bit. You can't be any more obnoxious to work out with than Steve." </p><p>So Bucky changed his shoes and the three of them went to the gym together. Bucky took the treadmill next to the one Sam was using and he cranked the speed up to a level higher than he'd used before. He wanted to show Sam what he was capable of and he didn't think Steve would interfere after the conversation Bucky had had with Sam about the subject. If he did attempt to stop him, Sam might say something and he might notice that Steve was holding him back. </p><p>So Bucky ran. He gave himself a mile to loosen up his muscles and then he upped the speed again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam eyeing the speed display, but he focused on his movements, on his speed, and on his breathing. He kept his pace steady, trying to keep the effort from showing on his face, even as his lungs heaved with the need for air. He powered through long strides and didn't let his muscles react to the strain. He pushed himself as hard as he could while still maintaining the facade of ease. </p><p>When he couldn't take anymore, he slowed the machine to a stop and used the slow walk across the gym to gather strength again before he took a seat on a bike. This moved the muscles in different ways, gave him a change in the strain, which allowed him to power through longer despite the tiredness beginning to set in. He set the resistance high and worked through the burn of pain in his legs. He had been told he would need to become a person but that was a task daunting in its scope. Right now, he didn't have to think about that, he just had to focus on doing what he was good at. He knew how to be an asset, how to be the best asset, and perhaps if he showed how good he could be at that, Sam would see that Steve was using him wrongly and become his handler. Perhaps Sam would allow him to stay an asset and work in ways he was familiar with. </p><p>Bucky didn't look directly at Sam, but he was aware of him watching. </p><p>Bucky hoped that the shirt he was wearing didn't show the sweat too strongly. He wanted to make this look like it wasn't a challenge for him. He wanted to appear his best to Sam so that he could be allowed to perform missions again but it was more than that. He wanted to demonstrate how Steve was wasting his skills. He wanted Steve to be made to suffer for refusing to let him show his potential. </p><p>He let that spite fuel him through several miles more. </p><p>Thirst burned in his throat and his legs screamed for mercy when he finally came to a stop. </p><p>He wanted to get himself a drink, but he needed to show his best behaviour for Sam. Lydia had told him he was allowed to get a drink whenever he was thirsty, but stopping now might make Sam think he had reached his limits. He stalked over to the rowing machine and took his position. The bending and straightening of his legs took force which they didn't want to give, but the main power came from his arms and he could show that off effectively. At least his metal arm didn't burn the way the rest of him did. He didn't let himself favour that side too visibly though. He needed to show that the rest of him was capable too, not just the part that HYDRA had built for him. </p><p>Steve had long since stopped exercising. Sam finished his jog and walked over to the water cooler, drinking deeply, watching Bucky row. </p><p>Steve walked up to Sam and said something quietly to him. </p><p>Bucky kept his head forward, watching them only out of the corner of his eye. The distance and the whir of the rowing machine meant he couldn't hear what they were saying. </p><p>He watched the clock on the machine count to the half hour and then he made himself keep going for another two minutes, just to show that he could. </p><p>Every part of him ached from effort and his back tickled with sweat under his shirt, but he thought he had shown himself effective. He stood, as casually as his sore limbs would allow, and walked towards the water cooler. </p><p>"May I have a drink?" he asked Sam. He'd been told he was allowed to have a drink whenever he wanted, but he didn't want to put that to the test now, not while he was demonstrating how good he could be as an asset. He didn't know how to be a person, but he could do this. </p><p>"Oh. Sure. Sorry." Sam stepped aside, giving Bucky room to access the water cooler. Bucky filled one of the little cups and downed it in a single mouthful. </p><p>"Honestly, Bucky, I can see why Steve was worried about you," Sam said. "That looked intense." </p><p>"Steve never let me exercise to this level before," Bucky said. "He wanted me to stop even when I was not training at this level of intensity or for as long." </p><p>"You've made your point, Buck," Steve said. "You know your limits better than I do." </p><p>Bucky didn't say anything to confirm that. He didn't need to. </p><p>"You didn't even look like you were trying out there," Sam said. "I've seen Steve in action and even he'd have a hard time keeping up with you." </p><p>"I'm not allowed to do combat training, so I can't test that," Bucky said. </p><p>"You'd want to fight me?" Steve said. He sounded upset about that. </p><p>"Spar," Bucky corrected. He would have enjoyed fighting Steve too, punching him in his lying face, but he wasn't going to admit wanting to do that to a handler. Sparring was acceptable though, at least it should be if he had a competent handler. He thought about what Lydia had told him, about asking for what he wanted, asking if he was allowed to do things, so he added to Sam, "I'd like to spar against you too. if it's allowed" </p><p>"After what I've just seen, I'm not sure I could survive sparring with you." </p><p>"I wouldn't use lethal force. And you have your wings to give you an advantage in manoeuvrability." </p><p>"Not right now, okay? Maybe in the future. There are still enough people worried about you that we shouldn't push things too much too fast." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He wasn't sure which people Sam was talking about, but he wasn't going to argue. Sam at least knew what he was doing. And Sam wasn't refusing to let him do combat training indefinitely like Steve was. </p><p>"You ready to go and get some lunch?" Steve asked. </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>What he really wanted was to have more water, because the little cups by the cooler were not large enough by far, but he wasn't sure if that would be acceptable and he thought he'd already pushed things enough for one day. </p><p>"I guess I'll see you guys later," Sam said. "I need a shower." </p><p>"We have showers," Bucky said. </p><p>"I appreciate the offer, but my clean clothes are in my room. I'll catch you guys later." </p><p>They got into the elevator together and Sam asked JARVIS to be taken to his floor. From the timing of the elevator rise, Sam's floor had to be close to Steve's, perhaps only two or three storeys down from it. Bucky wasn't sure what he could do with this information, but he stored it away just in case it proved useful. </p><p>"You like Sam, don't you?" Steve said, as they left the elevator into the apartment. </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"He's a good guy, and he's had some training in therapy and psychology. He's probably about a hundred times more qualified than me for dealing with this situation." </p><p>"Yes." It was good that Steve was aware of his failings. Perhaps he would initiate the transfer himself. </p><p>Steve gave a snort of laughter. "Don't sugar coat things for me, pal." He turned more serious. "I'm trying, Bucky. I can't even imagine what you've been through, what Hydra did to you. I can't comprehend how that must have affected you and I'm sure I've messed up about a hundred times since you came back. I feel like everything I say is like walking through a minefield and I don't know where the landmines are. I don't know whether what I'm going to say is going to help or make things worse. I wish I could just undo everything you've been through but I can't, and I now I feel like an asshole for making this all about me while you're the one suffering. I just... I'm sorry, Buck. I'm sorry if I'm doing this wrong." </p><p>Bucky didn't know how to respond to this. He didn't have experience responding to apologies. </p><p>He thought about Lydia, and how she'd told him to ask questions when he got confused. </p><p>"What do you want me to say?" Bucky asked. </p><p>Steve looked like that response pained him. </p><p>"I don't... I want you to be honest, Buck. Am I screwing this up? Sometimes, it feels like you hate me, like you don't want anything to do with me." </p><p>Honesty. He had been ordered to be honest. Disobeying orders was out of the question, even if following them meant pain. Either way there would be punishment but he'd been given an order to tell the truth. </p><p>"Yes, you're screwing this up," Bucky said. "Yes, I hate you. Yes, I don't want anything to do with you." </p><p>Steve looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut, and Bucky felt a rush of satisfaction that he'd been the cause of that expression. He let the image remain in his thoughts and he tucked it away in the secret part of his mind, along with his plots to make Sam his handler. He wanted to remember that look on Steve's face. It wouldn't make the inevitable punishment hurt any less, but it might make it easier to bear. </p><p>Steve turned and walked away. Bucky stood there in the living area and heard the slam of Steve's bedroom door closing. </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Ought he go take a shower? Getting rid of the sweat on his skin and clothing would be pleasant, but then he might find himself naked when they came to punish him. </p><p>He decided to be quick about it. He would give himself a perfunctory wash and then dress hurriedly. He was still in the shower under the flow of water when he heard the sound of Steve's door opening, and he braced himself for something terrible, but the only sound that came after was the ding of the elevator and then silence. Steve had left him alone in the apartment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm just going to sit hear and cackle like a supervillain while I wait for the comments to come in</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The moment I think you've all been waiting for</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky knew he would get in trouble for eating without Steve, because Bruce had said they should eat meals together, but he hoped he could get away with drinking some water. Lydia had told him it was allowed, after all. He went into the kitchen and, as she'd told him to do, announced, "I'm allowed to do this." </p><p>He didn't know if JARVIS would report him for this behaviour or if the statement would mean something to the AI. He could think of no reason why he would have been told to say that out loud except as a way to inform JARVIS that he didn't need to be reported for it. Either way, Bucky was just doing what his therapist said was alright, and no one said anything over the speakers as he filled the glass with water. He downed two glasses full and then cleaned up after himself. Hopefully, Steve wouldn't question or even notice the action. </p><p>He needed energy almost as much as he needed the water, given all his earlier efforts to prove himself to Sam. If they took him for punishment now, he might not be in any condition to eat later. He considered his options and decided to make himself one of the shakes Bruce had provided. After all, he was supposed to drink these and they weren't contingent on Steve eating with him. He hoped that this was covered under the broad umbrella of what Lydia had said was acceptable behaviour. He could get some nutrition and it might sustain him through what was to come. He made the thing up and had managed a few mouthfuls before he heard the ding of the elevator. </p><p>He set the glass down and braced himself. He wasn't sure who would come. Perhaps guards, figures he hadn't seen before. Perhaps Bruce would come to take him for more serious testing. Perhaps Lydia would take him to begin the painful part of therapy. There might be a lot of people needed to escort him somewhere else, since he'd been told the punishments wouldn't happen here. </p><p>"Bucky?" It was Sam's voice the called out, and Bucky felt his heart sink. He hadn't considered this possibility. He didn't want Sam to be the one who punished him. </p><p>"In here," Bucky called. There was no point hiding. He stood to attention and waited for the consequences of his words. </p><p>Sam walked into the kitchen, looking at Bucky with a serious expression on his face. His eyes fell on the glass on the counter. </p><p>"That your shake?" he asked. </p><p>"Yes. Bruce said I should have one each day to supplement my nutrition." </p><p>"Okay. I'll let you finish up and then we can go and have a talk." </p><p>Bucky picked up the glass. He could barely swallow around his nerves, but he poured the liquid down his throat. He needed as much energy as he could get to endure what would come. He delayed the inevitable only long enough to put the glass away in the dishwasher and then he was ready to go with Sam. </p><p>"Have you had anything else to eat?" Sam asked. </p><p>"No." </p><p>"You hungry?" </p><p>"Yes, but further sustenance is not essential at this point." </p><p>"Well, I'm pretty hungry." Sam led him into the elevator. "JARVIS, take us to the common room, please." </p><p>The elevator shot upwards. The common room turned out to be a wide space as large as Steve's apartment, or even larger, since there was a raise balcony around two edges of the room, and the ceilings were approximately twice the height. The room was split by furnishings and different floor levels to give the impressions of different areas. There was a bar in one area, a pool table in another, and an area of comfortable seating. Sam rounded a corner to a small kitchen area, with a counter and some basic cooking equipment. </p><p>"Tony always keeps this area pretty well stocked, in case anyone runs out in the apartments, or just feels like a snack. He also has a habit of hiding dried fruit in random places so you just come across a bag of dried blueberries in a drawer sometimes. Ah, here we go." He had been opening cupboards and now he found one that contained most of a loaf of bread. A bit more digging in cupboards revealed jars of peanut butter and jelly. He found the knives in the second drawer he tried, along with a small bag with a few pieces of dried apricot. </p><p>Sam made a stack of sandwiches without making a comment on the reason they were here like this. Did this mean that Sam had taken over his care now? </p><p>Bucky didn't dare let himself hope that he might have won so easily, but Sam loaded most of the sandwiches onto a plate and offered it to Bucky before finding a carton of juice and pouring them both a glass. They took their food and drink over to the area with the soft seating, near big windows that overlooked the city. Sam started eating and Bucky took that as permission to do the same, even though Steve wasn't here and Bruce had said he was meant to eat meals with Steve. Maybe Bruce had just meant he should eat meals with a handler. </p><p>Sam finished the first sandwich before he started talking again. </p><p>"So... Steve told me that you hate him. Is that right?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Sam took another bite, chewing and swallowing slowly. </p><p>"Do you hate me?" he asked. </p><p>"No." </p><p>"Okay. That's good, I guess. What about Tony and Bruce? Do you hate them?" </p><p>Bucky had to think longer about his answer. He knew that they would be in a position to hurt him, but both were just doing their jobs and both seemed good at those jobs. Tony checked with him whether he wanted the new arm and was trying to make it so that he didn't have to be electrocuted. Bruce had given him the shakes to help him get enough nutrition. Neither had shown unnecessary cruelty and Tony had even purchased items that were supposed to help him sleep. </p><p>"No," he said. </p><p>"So it's just Steve you hate." </p><p>Bucky considered this as well. There had been other handlers who had been bad or needlessly cruel. There had been the other fake Steves, who had lied and manipulated him. But they were gone now. </p><p>"Just Steve out of the people I've met here." </p><p>Sam paused again. He was taking a long time to think before everything he said. Bucky wasn't sure if that was good or bad. </p><p>"A few days ago, you tried to have sex with Steve. Do you hate him now because he turned him down? Or did you hate him then?" </p><p>"I hated him then." </p><p>"Then why did you try to have sex with him?" </p><p>"He's my handler. Handlers are the ones who give reward touches. At least that's how it was with HYDRA. Lydia told me it's different here." It was strange to have to explain these things, but if Lydia was correct then the Avengers didn't use sexual touches as a way of rewarding good behaviour. For all that Sam had always seemed much more capable than Steve, it was possible he wouldn't know these protocols. Or it was possible he was testing Bucky's knowledge of protocols by making him recite them. </p><p>Sam drew a breath slowly. His muscles looked tense, like he was poised for a fight. Bucky braced himself for pain. </p><p>"Please explain what you mean by reward touches," he said. "I want to make sure I'm not misunderstanding or missing anything." </p><p>"There are punishments for bad behaviour and rewards for good behaviour. Enduring a particularly painful procedure without moving or complaining is good behaviour. Completing a mission successfully with no witnesses or complications is good behaviour. Obeying difficult orders promptly and completely is good behaviour. If an asset shows consistent good behaviour, then the asset is rewarded with non-painful touches. If an asset shows sufficient obedience and good behaviour, the asset may be rewarded with an orgasm." He hesitated and then added, "Lydia told me that I'm allowed to give myself an orgasm and that sex and hugs aren't used as a reward here." </p><p>Sam looked away from Bucky. There was anger on his face and his hands clutched tightly at his knees where they had been resting gently before. Sam hadn't known this. Sam hadn't known that Bucky had been violating protocols by asking for hugs, and that he had committed a major infraction by trying to manipulate Steve into reward touches. Would he be punished even though the protocols were different here? Bucky had acted in a way that he'd believe violated protocols and just because the new protocols applied differently it didn't change the fact that he'd believed he was deliberately violating protocols. Sam might believe that was enough to punish him. </p><p>Sam's fingers slowly relaxed but he didn't stop looking angry. Bucky waited for those hands to slap him or punch him now that Sam knew the truth. Unless Sam was saving all the punishments up for later, when Bucky was allowed to leave the Tower, because punishments didn't happen here. </p><p>"You said that Steve is your handler. What does that entail?" </p><p>"A handler is responsible for an asset. The handler tends to physical needs like food and water, and sees to it that the asset receives medical care if needed. The handler ensures that protocols are followed and administers rewards for good behaviour." </p><p>"You think that because Steve gives you meals and the like that he's your handler?" </p><p>"I knew he was my new handler when he said his name was Steve. All the Steves have been handlers." </p><p>"All the Steves? There have been multiple people called Steve?" </p><p>"Yes. Two I remember relatively clearly. Others are more muddled. Once cold storage became standard procedure between missions, sometimes there might be months or years between periods of waking and the personnel would change, so some Steves only remained my handler for a single mission or a small number. Post-mission wipes prevent me from having clear memories of most of the Steves, but as with my combat skills, I retain awareness of the Steve protocols without having distinct memories of my experiences with them." </p><p>"What were they like?" </p><p>"Some were like this Steve, tall and muscular, and speaking with an American accent. One was small and thin. All were blond but," Bucky frowned, trying to tease detail out of a memory that was vague to the point that it was like trying to see clearly through mist, "I think one of the Steves dyed his hair blond, because there were darker areas near the roots." </p><p>"So HYDRA would assign someone blond, who called himself Steve, to show you gentleness to coerce you into cooperating with them?" </p><p>Bucky considered this question. It was accurate enough, though no one in authority would have ever described it as coercion before. He nodded. </p><p>"And you think that's what's happening here?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Bucky was getting increasingly frustrated at Sam. He'd thought that Sam understood things properly, that he knew how his job worked, but now Sam was acting like he knew nothing. Of course, it was possible that this was an act, a test to see if Bucky responding in the appropriate way. Sam had proven himself better at lying than Steve during the cheating game, so it was the most likely explanation for how Sam was acting now. It made more sense than Sam being truly ignorant. After all, why would they assign Steve to be his handler if they didn't know about the Steve protocol? </p><p>"But what about therapy?" Sam said. "You agreed to that. We told you we wanted to help you get better." </p><p>"I was put through therapies to make me better before," Bucky said. "I only have clear memories of some of them. One involved a drug that made it feel like my veins were on fire, but afterwards I was faster." </p><p>Sam looked angry again. Bucky waited for the punishment blow that would inevitably follow his complaining about the pain of therapies. </p><p>"When I told you that you needed therapy, that's what you thought I meant? Experiments and torture?" </p><p>Bucky wondered if he was supposed to point out that torture was different from therapies. Therapies might cause pain but the purpose was to improve his function. Torture was all about the pain. He decided that correcting Sam on this point would not be worth the pain. </p><p>"Yes," he said. Lydia had explained that therapy involved a lot of talking, but that didn't rule out the possibility that painful procedures would be involved as well. </p><p>"And your sessions with Bruce? What did you think about them?" </p><p>"Experiments often involve scans and tests to show the scientists the results. Bruce is unfamiliar with my capabilities and is learning my physiology before he begins his own tests." </p><p>Sam's hands had tightened on his knees again. He slowly relaxed them. Why hadn't he hit him yet? Was he saving up the punishment for the end? Or was it because Bucky would need to be taken somewhere else for the punishment because punishments didn't happen in the Tower? </p><p>"Bucky," Sam said after a few minutes of silence, "this isn't HYDRA. You're with the Avengers now." </p><p>"I know that the protocols are somewhat different. I will adapt to the changes in protocol if they're explained to me." </p><p>"It's not a matter of protocols and orders. You're free from HYDRA now." </p><p>"I'm not free," Bucky said, even though correcting an authority normally meant punishment. He wasn't sure what he was being tested on, and recognising his position might be the correct response. </p><p>"You're not HYDRA's prisoner anymore," Sam said. </p><p>"If I were to walk over to the elevator without an escort, would the doors open for me?" Bucky asked. "If I asked JARVIS to take me to street level and open the doors to let me leave, would he?" </p><p>Sam studied him carefully before answering. "You have a point. Maybe free is overstating it, but you have more freedom than you had with HYDRA and if you can prove that you're not a threat, then the rest might be possible. We've got people looking for solid evidence that what you did for HYDRA wasn't your fault, incontrovertible evidence that will stand up in court and allow you to be truly free. Right now, a lot of governments want to punish you for all the missions you completed for HYDRA. Steve has friends trying to prove beyond doubt that you didn't have a choice so those people can't punish you. You being here, in the Tower, is a way of protecting you." </p><p>Bucky felt like he wasn't following what Sam was saying. Sam didn't think he was HYDRA, assuming he was telling the truth. </p><p>"I was HYDRA's asset," Bucky said. </p><p>"Yes, but you didn't choose to be." </p><p>"Now I'm your asset." </p><p>"No. You're a person. We want to help you recover so that when your innocence is proved, you can live freely as a person again. We thought you understood this." </p><p>Lydia had said that he was supposed to become a person but it didn't make any more sense when Sam said it. </p><p>"If you want me to be a person, why did you assign me a handler?" Bucky didn't know what he was supposed to do. Was this a trap, a way for him to be caught acting against protocol so that he'd be punished? </p><p>"Steve isn't a handler. He's your friend. He wants to help you." </p><p>"He's a Steve." </p><p>"He was your friend before HYDRA captured you. HYDRA used that against you. They probably figured out that you would be receptive to care from someone who looked like him called by the same name." </p><p>"HYDRA made me." </p><p>"HYDRA captured you, brainwashed you, and used you. All these handlers called Steve were part of the brainwashing, but the Steve who's here now is the real thing. He's your friend and he wants to help you recover from everything HYDRA did." </p><p>Bucky still didn't know what he was expected to say. It seemed Sam didn't either because he was silent for some time before he spoke again. </p><p>"We thought you understood," Sam said. "I'm sorry we weren't clearer. We're going to help you understand, and we're going to have to change things, change the way we run things, so that you don't get confused like this again. Wait here and I'll go have some conversations about how we handle things." Sam stood and started away. He got halfway to the elevator before he turned round and said, "By 'wait here' I mean wait in the common room. You don't have to stay on the couch. Feel free to make use of anything in here that takes your interest or to help yourself to food if you're still hungry." </p><p>With that, Sam turned away once again and left Bucky alone in a space that wasn't his designated cell in Steve's apartment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To the person in the comments who said that Bucky needed chocolate... here you go.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The change in arrangements Sam had mentioned was that they gave Bucky his own apartment, with the information that this was to allow him more independence and autonomy. Sam said that they wanted him to know that he was a person and that meant letting him make personal choices. Sam would still help him by providing some structure to his time, which would give him a framework to follow that shouldn't be overwhelming, but he wouldn't be dependent on Steve. He wasn't to be an asset anymore and that meant he would take control of his own physical needs instead of having a handler do those things. This hadn't been what Bucky had expected when he'd decided he didn't want Steve as a handler, and the uncertainty at the strangeness of the sensation filled him with a sense of dread, like an itch under his skin. </p><p>Still, he went along with Sam to the new apartment because he couldn't just disobey because the new orders were strange. The apartment matched Steve's in layout, but though much of the same furniture was there, it didn't have any of the personal items that Steve had filled his with. Sam brought some of the clothes that had been in his bedroom in Steve's apartment. Tony arrived and brought, along with the various objects he'd ordered after Bucky hadn't slept, a tablet computer that had a number of functions, including a shopping app that he could use to order anything he wanted. Bucky could choose whatever food he wanted so long as it was listed on that app. Tony explained that he could use this to order clothing, entertainment, food, toiletries, or anything else he wanted. </p><p>"If there's anything you want that's not on there, just ask me," Tony added. "I didn't include everything you can order because bird boy thought it would be too overwhelming for you, so instead of all the different varieties of apple you could order, you've just got one option called 'apple' and so on. If you want us to increase the options to give you more choice, let me know." </p><p>The choice Bucky could see from Tony's quick demo already felt overwhelming, but there were nutritionally balanced meal plan suggestions he could follow if choosing for himself was too difficult. </p><p>The tablet could be used to play games. He could read books on it, or watch videos, though Tony showed him how to use the massive TV in the living area so that he could watch videos there too. If he got stuck for choice, he could ask JARVIS, who would give him a suggestion based on things he'd previously played or watched, again in an effort to keep him from getting overwhelmed by infinite possibilities. There was also a calendar which showed him recurring appointments, like his therapy once a week. It was Sam who talked him through that. </p><p>"Going to therapy will help you adjust," Sam said. "I've spoken to the doctor about our misunderstanding, and she'll help you if you still get confused. I've put your sessions with Bruce in there as well. You don't have to go and see him every day, but if you don't want to see him, it would be polite for you to let him know. If you press this little, red X on the appointment, that means you won't be showing up, and this thing will let Bruce know so he won't wait for you." </p><p>"What will happen if I refuse to see Bruce?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Then Bruce won't get his scans of your brain, so he won't have as much data to track your progress." </p><p>"I meant what the punishment would be." </p><p>"No punishments. No punishments ever again." </p><p>He'd been told there wouldn't be punishments here or right after the infraction, but there still had to be punishments. There were always punishments. </p><p>Bucky was starting to hate Sam almost as much as he hated Steve because he wouldn't stop lying. Bucky wanted to punch him in the face just to make him show his true colours and inflict a punishment. Except if he hurt Sam, he might get given back to Steve and he would still rather have Sam as a handler than Steve. What he really wanted was a handler who was good at their job and didn't change the rules on him. He found himself wishing for Alex again, because Alex had always been clear about what he expected from the Asset. Alex had expected nothing short of perfection and had punishment him when he'd failed to deliver, but at least he didn't play these mind games with him. </p><p>"If you want to see someone outside of an appointment," Sam said, "ask JARVIS and he can deliver a message and see if they're free. You can also make other appointments, just ask Jarvis. I've also put in blocks of time for suggested activity, because you said you struggled with making choices. So if you want, you can just click this button here, and it will show what I've suggested." Blocks of time appeared on the schedule, marking out meals or gym time, giving him blocks of an hour at a time for reading or watching videos. </p><p>"You can ignore these suggestions, and you can change them. If you wanted to give yourself more time for reading and less for playing games, you can edit these yourself. And if you have something else come up as a one off, it can replace these blocks. You asked me about sparring. I still think we should be careful about exposing you to combat, but since this was something you specifically asked for, I thought we could put an appointment in for us to do that tomorrow morning, after your session with Bruce. What do you think?" </p><p>Was Sam really giving him what he asked for? Or was he going to manipulate things in such a way so that instead of real sparring, Bucky ended up getting beaten without them calling it punishment? The second option seemed more likely, but Bucky nodded anyway because agreement was always better than disagreement, and he watched Sam put the appointment in the calendar. </p><p>"This other appointment," Sam said, "is a group dinner in the common room. We've decided to do this once a week. Whichever Avengers, and Avengers-associated people, are in the Tower will be there, so at the moment it will be Steve, Tony, me and Bruce. There will be others at other times. You can join us for the dinner if you want to, but it's your choice." </p><p>So he could choose to starve or he could choose to eat dinner with Steve. Bucky glared at him. </p><p>"The rest of your time," Sam said, "is yours. You can spend time here. You can use the gym. You can go to the common room if you don't mind that other people might be there. If you want to go to Bruce or Tony's labs, ask JARVIS first. You won't be able to go there without them present, but you can go to the other places. As you adjust, we'll start expanding the list of places you can go without constant supervision." </p><p>Sam handed over the tablet. </p><p>"Do you have any questions?" Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky's main question was why Sam was insisting on the lie that he was supposed to be a person. What was the purpose of this test? He didn't understand it, but he couldn't outright ask why he was being tested. That would defeat whatever purpose the test had. </p><p>"Do you want a hug?" Sam asked. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky answered, because of course he wanted a hug. Hugs meant he'd done something good and he was being rewarded, but he hadn't done anything to earn one. He'd upset Steve. He had demonstrated his violations of protocols. He expected Sam to tell him something he needed to do to earn a hug, or else just tell him that he wasn't getting one, to reprimand him for thinking of his own wants instead of the people he was supposed to serve. </p><p>Instead, Sam opened his arms up and wrapped them around Bucky briefly. </p><p>"If you want to see me at any time, just ask JARVIS," Sam said, and then he was gone, leaving Bucky alone. </p><p>Bucky explored the apartment, checking it over carefully for hidden entrances. There were cameras in every room, discretely placed in the corners, but there were no restraints, no signs of anything that could be used to punish him, but that just meant punishments were likely to take place elsewhere. He placed his clothes into the drawers of the bedroom that corresponded to the one he'd used in Steve's apartment, three floors up. He inspected the kitchen, looking at what was available to him, which was almost nothing. Sam had told him that he would be responsible for his own meals now, and Tony had shown him how to order food. He was supposed to use the tablet to ask for groceries and apparently JARVIS would arrange to have them delivered, unless Sam had been lying about that too. </p><p>Bucky looked at the food list on the shopping app and planned out some orders for staple foods which he could ration out over a long period in case he wasn't allowed to order frequently, looking at the meal plans to see what they thought he should be eating. Neither Sam nor Tony had given him instruction regarding how much or how frequently he could request food. He planned for meals that would maintain optimal health, with adequate nutritional elements, without anything that would be considered wasteful or unnecessary. </p><p>Then he saw the chocolate bars on the list on the screen. </p><p>He knew this was a test. He knew that JARVIS would report on everything he ordered. He knew he should order the healthy food to demonstrate that he was looking after the asset properly, that he was capable of being his own handler. But... he wanted to taste chocolate. He couldn't remember ever eating it, but he was sure he had. He wanted to try chocolate. Would he be punished for adding one chocolate bar to his order? </p><p>Even if he was punished, at least they would drop this whole act. Perhaps Sam would come in and announce that he clearly wasn't doing a good enough job at looking after himself, so this was proof he needed a handler, which would give Bucky what he wanted. He was certain that choosing chocolate would be a failure of the test, but perhaps this was a way to force them to be honest with him. </p><p>They were testing him. He would test them. </p><p>He removed everything that he'd previously selected from his order and instead ordered chocolate bars. The app maxed out at an order of nine hundred and ninety-nine for any single item, but there were several flavours of chocolate bar to choose from. He ordered the maximum number of all of them. Once he had filled up his list, he clicked the order button and waited for consequences. </p><p>A little under three hours later, JARVIS announced that a delivery had arrived for him. </p><p>The elevator doors opened to reveal a wall of boxes. Bucky opened the first box to reveal neat rows of chocolate bars. Bucky brought the boxes into the living room and inspected them all. Row after row of chocolate bars. All the flavours he had ordered were present and, while he didn't count each item, the quantities for each were vast.</p><p>It was possible each bar was poisoned or tampered with in some way, but he decided to chance it, to try for the possibility that he could actually eat chocolate. He tore open the wrapper of the first bar and began to eat, letting the sweet taste melt over his tongue, the scent of it fill his nostrils, and the beautiful flavour send signals through his body that were like the reward touches that signified he'd done something right. </p><p>An hour later, he felt extremely unwell, but he didn't believe poison was to blame. He decided that the sensible choice was to put the chocolate bars away in the kitchen cupboards because the experience of eating them had ceased to be pleasurable about two dozen bars earlier. </p><p>He drank some water from the tap to wash away the taste of chocolate and regretted not ordering something sensible alongside his test. </p><p>"JARVIS, how frequently can I use the ordering app?" Bucky asked. Sam had told him to ask Jarvis any questions about the apartment or tablet. </p><p>"Mr Stark set no limits." </p><p>Bucky picked up the tablet again and placed the order he had been originally intending to, full of fruit, vegetables, and wholegrain staples. He added some protein items until he had a nutritionally-balanced selection with no trace of chocolate to be found. </p><p>He didn't have to wait for that order to arrive though, because Jarvis informed him that there was a delivery from Captain Rogers. This time, when the elevator doors opened, it contained a basket full of a variety of fruit. Bucky lifted it up apprehensively, in case this was a trap of some sort, but it didn't seem to be. The fruit was normal enough in appearance and the only thing in the basket besides the fruit was a card with a painting of flowers on the front. </p><p>Bucky began slowly eating a pear as he opened up the card and read what was written inside. </p><p>
  <i> Bucky. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I'm sorry. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don't know exactly what it was I did that made you hate me, but I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry I couldn't catch you when you fell from the train, and I'm sorry I didn't look for you afterwards. If I'd thought for one second that you were alive, I would have torn the world apart to get you back. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I'm sorry I didn't explain things properly when we got you back. I'm sorry that you don't feel safe with me. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sam told me about the other Steves and I hate that my image was used against you that way, but I don't know how to make it better. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I know I need to give you space to decide things for yourself, but if you ever want to see me, just ask and I'll be there in a heartbeat. If there's anything I can do to help you, you have only to ask. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Your friend</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Steve Rogers.</i>
</p><p>This wasn't what Bucky had expected. He had anticipated punishment, not apologies. </p><p>He didn't think any of the other Steves had ever apologised to him. Not once. They had been more likely to demand that he apologise for his actions even when he hadn't been at fault. For approximately half a second, Bucky wondered if perhaps Sam had been right and this Steve wasn't like the others. He dismissed that thought. </p><p>The Steves hadn't all be identical, and this one clearly didn't know how to act in accordance with protocols. That was all this was. </p><p>He was still a Steve and still a handler. The fact that he sent fruit when Bucky needed something other than chocolate to eat was proof that he was still tending to Bucky's physical needs, even from a distance. Nothing had really changed. </p><p>Except... he would never have been able to get away with that chocolate binge with any other handler. </p><p>He was more confused than he'd ever been. Steve didn't make sense. None of this made sense. Sam had said that this Steve was different, that he wasn't Hydra and that it was good that he wasn't. Bucky didn't know how to cope with that. Sam had said that the other Steves were all copying this Steve to manipulate him, but that didn't make sense because some of those other Steves had been decades ago. Besides, if they'd been copying this Steve, all that meant was that he couldn't trust this Steve either. </p><p>He studied the card. The painting seemed fresh, not something purchased at a store. Had Steve made this for him specifically? That seemed like a significant and unnecessary effort. Why would a handler be so wasteful about how he spent his time? Why would a handler do any of this? </p><p>Sam said he was free, but he wasn't. He still had handlers and tests and boundaries. Just because he had a bed in his cell didn't stop it from being a cell. Just because they gave him orders to order his own food didn't stop them being orders. Perhaps he was being trained for more advanced missions. Perhaps he needed to act like a person in order to infiltrate. He knew that other operatives acted as spies, talking to people and gaining information as well as killing them, blending in with diverse groups of people with astonishing adaptability. Perhaps Bucky needed to show that he could adapt so that he could be sent on missions like that. </p><p>He was sure that he didn't want that. He was used to the missions of the sort he had experienced before, used to assassinations, to sniper's nests. He knew killing. He didn't want to be trained to a new purpose because training hurt, being reshaped into a new type of weapon hurt. But he was an asset. It wasn't for him to decide what sort of asset he was. If his new commanders wanted him to be able to act like a person, then he would have to learn how. </p><p>Somehow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky decided to continue testing his supposed freedom. This would either be proving that he could adjust an help him pass the test, or it would push Sam and the others to actually punish him and give him back a handler. Either way, he would have an answer to his confusion. </p><p>So he clicked the little cross next to his appointment with Bruce and told JARVIS to take him to the gym. He was supposed to go later, or at least the slot for training in the gym in his optional schedule was for later. Yet JARVIS took him to the gym at the wrong time anyway. Bucky walked in and saw that he wasn't alone here. Steve was at the punch bags, a piece of equipment Bucky hadn't been allowed to use. The sweat staining his back was proof that he hadn't just chosen to come here because Bucky had decided to. He had clearly been here for some time, pummeling the bag at an impressive rate. </p><p>Steve stopped. He turned to face Bucky. </p><p>"Sorry," Steve said. He glanced up at a clock on the wall. "I wasn't expecting you to be here yet. I can leave if you want." </p><p>The idea of telling a handler to leave sent a thrill through him that might have been excitement or terror. </p><p>"You don't need to leave," Bucky said. Giving instructions to a handler was too much, a step further than he was willing to go just yet, even though it would definitely serve to push them into showing their true colours and administering punishments. He walked over to the treadmills and climbed onto the one furthest from Steve. He set the speed on high and began to run. He kept an eye on Steve, in case of anger or some deeper reaction, but kept his head forward as he did so, so that it didn't look like he was watching, using the reflection in the big windows to track Steve's actions. </p><p>Over by the bags, Steve turned back to what he had been doing, dealing vicious punches that rang loud over the whir of the machine under Bucky's feet. After a few minutes, Steve stopped punching and grabbed hold of the bag, leaning against it. Even from this distance, Bucky could see Steve's shoulders shaking. </p><p>Steve turned and walked out of the gym, keeping his head turned away from Bucky as he did so. </p><p>Bucky ran on for a few minutes more in the now-empty gym, but his eyes kept being drawn back to the punch bags in the corner. He had been told that he wasn't to participate in combat training, but he'd been told that by Steve and Steve wasn't his handler anymore. Sam had said that they could spar together, so did that mean that combat training was acceptable? Sam had expressed a need to restrict combat training, but there was no one here to stop him, and if it was a punishable offense, at least then he would have forced them to show their hand. </p><p>He stopped the treadmill and walked over to the punchbags. He paused, listening out for someone to order him to stop, for some sign of disapproval from the watching computer. When none came, he lowered himself into a fighting stance and began to punch. </p><p>He got into a steady rhythm, hitting the bag at first with carefully restrained hits. The bag barely moved, weighted so that it could handle his punches with ease, even with his enhanced strength. He put more power into each blow, and still the bag barely twitched. He increased his strength again, and the bag stayed stable and sturdy even when he used his metal fist to pound into its surface. He half expected the surface to rupture from the impact but it stayed strong, soft enough to have a little bit of give, absorbing the blow, but still firm enough that he felt the impact up his arms and into his shoulders. </p><p>Soon he was sweating, breathing hard, as he poured all the frustration of the last few weeks into productive activity. </p><p>He didn't hear the approaching footsteps over the sounds of his punches, so his first awareness that he wasn't alone was when Sam said, "You might want to wrap your right hand." </p><p>Bucky stopped. He turned to face his handler, wary, waiting for a more severe reprimand. His right hand stung from the repeating impacts against the bag, but he was ready for more pain, for the punishment Sam would order for overstepping what he was allowed. </p><p>"You didn't feel like seeing Bruce today?" Sam asked, as he picked up a wrap and walked slowly up to Bucky, telegraphing his moves as he did so. </p><p>"You said I could refuse." </p><p>"Yes, I did. You're not in trouble. I was just curious why you decided that." </p><p>Sam held out his hand. Bucky worked out what he wanted and placed his own hand on it. Sam started to wrap the length of cloth around the already bruising knuckles. He was gentle, fingers brushing over Bucky's skin carefully, deliberately avoiding causing him any further pain. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation despite the disobedience. </p><p>"I heal quickly," Bucky said. "I am not likely to cause damage which would impede my effectiveness through training without a wrap." </p><p>"Just because you can heal doesn't make it right that you hurt. I know you're not used to worrying about whether you're hurting, but you're safe now. We want to keep you from getting hurt." </p><p>Bucky didn't argue that he was a weapon. His purpose was to hurt others. So long as he remained effective at that task, his own damage was immaterial. He was starting to think that Sam wasn't any better at being a handler than Steve, unless this was part of the mission to become a person, to care about things like this. He didn't understand how it would be an advantage to try and avoid hurt. He was a much better weapon if he didn't care about minor injuries to himself. </p><p>"There," Sam said. "That's better." </p><p>He stepped back and Bucky found himself disappointed. He'd wanted Sam to keep holding his hand for longer. He refrained from saying anything though and returned to his training, punching the bag until he felt the exertion of the movements. He shifted his weight from side to side, as though dodging an enemy, in between his own punches. After a while, he brought his legs into the training as well, kicking at the bag, driving a knee into it, and then twisting to slam its side with an elbow. He showed variety in his movements, making sure that every muscle was given a workout, that every technique was included in his training so that he didn't grow rusty or become too dependent on predictable moves. </p><p>Sam watched the training carefully and Bucky tried to show himself to his advantage. He wanted to be on his best form to demonstrate what resource Steve had been wasting. He tried combinations of moves that contorted his body into awkward positions, twisting his body down and slamming his foot upwards into the bag, before swinging round and using his momentum to drive his shoulder into the bag with enough force that even its sturdy structure shuddered on impact. He feinted and attacked in a blur of motion. He jumped up to bring his entire body weight into a move, striking downwards. </p><p>That turned out to be a mistake. For all the bag's reinforcements, it clearly hadn't been designed to take that much force from that angle. There was a snapping noise from the top of the bag and then the whole thing fell, the connection to the chain that had been holding it to the ceiling now severed. </p><p>Bucky looked at the fallen bag, stricken, wondering what the punishment would be for breaking equipment. Sam started laughing and Bucky cringed, because people only laughed when the punishment was going to be particularly humiliating. </p><p>"JARVIS, add that to the scoreboard," Sam said. </p><p>"Updated," JARVIS replied. "The scores now stand at Sergeant Barnes one, Captain Rogers four, Mr Stark five, Dr Banner twenty four, and Agent Barton still winning with twenty seven and a half." </p><p>"What do the scores represent?" Bucky asked, because the used of the term 'winning' was bizarre. </p><p>"Pieces of equipment broken." </p><p>Bucky was glad to know that he wasn't the only person to have broken equipment, though that might mean that punishment protocols were well-established. There was something more perplexing about the answer though. He had been told to ask questions if he was confused about things. </p><p>"How can a person have a half score for breaking equipment?" </p><p>It was JARVIS who answered. "Agent Barton insists that the coffee machine broke on its own and that he was not to blame. A compromise was reached with the half score. It is worth noting that the scoreboard only tracks breakages after the official formation of the Avengers and does not include the numerous breakages incurred while Mr Stark was first testing his Iron Man armour." </p><p>"What equipment did Steve break?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Two punch bags, a rowing machine, and a microwave," JARVIS replied. "The punch bags were reinforced after each occurrence. I shall inform Mr Stark that further reinforcement is required." </p><p>"Thanks, JARVIS," Sam said. "Well, I think that's a sign that you've spent enough time on the punch bag for one day. Are you ready to spar?" </p><p>"Yes," Bucky answered. </p><p>"Hopefully, you're worn out enough that I stand a fighting chance," said Sam, leading the way to a door off the gym that Bucky hadn't been allowed through before. "We should set some ground rules though. I don't have super healing, so I need you to pull your punches. No injuries. And no breaking my wings again. Understood?" </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>Sam didn't question the use of the title, but he grimaced a little as Bucky said it. </p><p>The room Sam led him to had padding on the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. The texture had a spongy feel that would make footwork odd. Bucky tested a few steps, hopping from foot to foot, to acclimatise. Sam went to a patch of wall and a large chunk of the padding slid aside to reveal an equipment compartment. There were weapons made of wood and plastic, fake knives and even a gun made of rubber. Bucky picked that up, wondering what the point of that was. </p><p>"We'll stick to hand-to-hand for now," Sam said, taking his wingpack from the compartment and strapping it onto his back. Bucky put the fake gun back and the compartment closed again, leaving only the padded surface of the wall. </p><p>"We'll spar until one of us yields," Sam said. "Remember what I said about injuries. If I tell you to stop at any time, you stop at once. Likewise, if I hurt you, tell me and I'll stop." </p><p>Bucky thought that was unlikely, but he agreed. Sam pressed a switch to fire up the thrusters on his wing pack, the wings unfolding behind him. These wings didn't look quite the same as the ones Sam had been testing with Stark. Perhaps Stark was still working on the newer ones and these were an older set used for practice. Perhaps it was like the fake knives and guns, that this wasn't the final version for use in combat. Whatever the reason, it was clear Sam was familiar with this pack. He kicked off the ground, firing thrusters to hover a little way from Bucky. </p><p>"Ready?" Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>Sam dove at him. </p><p>The combat was as challenging as Bucky had hoped, the difficulty mainly coming from the restrictions against injury or damage to the wings. Bucky could grab hold of Sam's foot as he kicked at his face, but he couldn't break bones, or pull him down with enough force to slam him into the ground and cause debilitating pain. </p><p>With the wings, Sam was fast, dodging out of the way of blows, taking to the air when required to give himself some distance and coming at Bucky from unfamiliar angles. </p><p>Instead of punching or kicking, which might cause injuries, Bucky focused on holds, trying to grab Sam or pull him out of the air, but Sam was able to use the thrusters to enhance his own strength, using them to break free of Bucky's grips, or to drive them both in a new direction. At one point, Bucky went to hold Sam around the legs, and Sam angled the wings to blast both of them until Bucky's back slammed into the nearest wall. The padding prevented the pain being too intense, but the shock was enough that Sam was able to pull free, kicking him in the chest for good measure as he flew away. </p><p>Bucky tried to grab the wings, but he was cautious of using his metal hand in case of damage, and when he used his flesh hand, he risked being burned by the thrusters. At one point, Sam's thruster blast nearly caught Bucky in the head and he pulled away to the smell of singed hair. </p><p>"Sorry," Sam said. "Are you alright? Do you want to stop?" </p><p>"I'm uninjured," Bucky replied. "We continue." </p><p>His next approach was to try and remove the wingpack without damaging it. There were a number of straps and fastenings that held the thing around Sam's torso. Bucky brought his metal fist towards Sam's face and, when Sam dodged away and up, Bucky's hand was ready to squeeze on the clasp for the main chest strap. </p><p>But Sam pulled out of reach before he could manage anything else. The wingpack was still in place but that main strap was lose. Bucky wasn't sure what it would mean for Sam's manoeuvrability but it seemed Sam didn't want to risk it because he dropped to his feet at the far corner of the room, wings powering down momentarily as he reached to refasten the strap. </p><p>Bucky was already moving, tackling Sam and slamming him into the wall, pinning one arm with his own as he got round behind him and got his metal arm around his throat. Bucky could easily have snapped Sam's neck from this position but he didn't. He knew that Sam could fire his wings again and the thrusters would cause major injury to his chest, but he also doubted Sam would do so, given the rules of this sparring session so it was worth the risk. </p><p>Sam's free arm tried to get leverage, tried to pry the throttling arm away from his throat, but Bucky's metal arm was resistant to his attempts. After a few moments, it was clear Sam accepted this. He tapped his hand against Bucky's metal arm and croaked out a sound that was close enough to, "Yield." </p><p>Bucky let go at once. </p><p>Sam stumbled away, rubbing at his throat. </p><p>"I'm glad you weren't really trying to kill me this time," Sam said. "You probably could have killed me half a dozen times." </p><p>"I had three opportunities to kill you," Bucky announced, carefully going back over his memories of their sparring sessions, "nine opportunities to cause serious injury, after which I could have killed you, and eight opportunities to damage your wings." </p><p>"Well, I appreciate the restraint." </p><p>"The training wouldn't have been as satisfying if I'd killed you within the first two minutes." </p><p>That remark seemed to amuse Sam. He grinned and said, "Was that what you hoped it would be?" </p><p>"Yes." The fight had been enjoyable. The restrictions around injuries and damage had forced him to test himself, had made him think differently about strategies, making the whole thing more interesting than a more violent fight. Limiting damage had been a very different sort of challenge from fighting enhanced individuals. In some ways, not hurting someone in sparring was more difficult than hurting them. It had been satisfying to show his skills in this manner, exercising his mind and his body to overcome the problems in a way that he was capable of without the confusion that had dominated so much of his recent life. </p><p>"I'm glad." Sam rubbed his throat again. Bucky wondered if he'd squeezed too hard. It was possible he would be punished for breaking the rules of this training session. "I think that's enough practice for one day though." He undid the clasps of his wingpack. "Perhaps I should ask Stark to put some sort of thumbprint scanner on these so someone can't undo them in the middle of battle." </p><p>"In a real battle, I would have simply broken the straps. A thumbprint scanner on the clasp would have been of negligible use." </p><p>"Not every opponent would have superstrength and a metal hand." Sam stowed the wingpack away in the hidden cupboard and headed towards the door. Bucky followed. </p><p>"True. Perhaps a biometric lock on the clasps would serve some purpose." </p><p>"I'll see what he thinks. Right now, I need a shower and a drink, and then something to eat. Definitely something to eat; I need a sugar hit pronto." </p><p>Bucky thought about the food he had in his apartment, but he wasn't sure he could face making a meal out of what he had the most of. </p><p>"Would you like a chocolate bar?" </p><p>He wasn't sure if he was allowed to offer food, since he had been told to order food for his own nourishment, but the food belonged to his handler and the Tower and the people here, so offering Sam the sugar hit he desired was simply redistributing food that Sam was entitled to anyway. And it was one less chocolate bar for him to consume which was surprisingly a benefit after yesterday's binge. Besides, if it wasn't allowed, Bucky would find out soon and then at least he would have one clear answer to all the confusion he was currently enduring. And perhaps he would stop having to worry what the punishment would be for his reckless ordering of unhealthy food because he would be forced to endure it. He was finding waiting for punishment more stressful than simply being punished, because he knew there was no escaping the actual punishment no matter what everyone kept telling him. </p><p>So he let the offer out, and waited for the result. </p><p>"A chocolate bar?" Sam asked. </p><p>"I ordered chocolate bars from the food app Tony showed me. You can have one if you need sugar." </p><p>"Sure. That's very nice of you." </p><p>So they took the elevator back to Bucky's cell and he walked into the kitchen area. He opened a cupboard to reveal the tidy piles of chocolate bars inside. Sam gave a faint snort that might have been a laugh. </p><p>"How many did you order?" </p><p>Bucky did a quick calculation. "Seven thousand, nine hundred and ninety two." </p><p>Sam laughed aloud that time. </p><p>"Wow. Okay. That's a lot of chocolate." </p><p>"Yes." Bucky waited for Sam to say something else, to tell him that he had failed the test and wasn't allowed to manage his own nutrition anymore. </p><p>"When we set the parameters for JARVIS to alert us about self-destructive behaviour, we didn't think to put 'eating your body weight in chocolate' on the list." </p><p>"JARVIS didn't report to you my purchases?" </p><p>"No. JARVIS is only going to report things to us if you do something dangerous, something that could hurt yourself or others. Buying chocolate doesn't come under that heading. At least, not normally." Sam frowned at the cupboard full of chocolate bars. "I'm glad you're not trying to eat them all at once." </p><p>Bucky felt he had to admit the truth to avoid punishment later when his dietary transgressions were uncovered. "I felt nauseous after consuming more than two hundred in one sitting." </p><p>Sam laughed, no doubt satisfied that Bucky had felt discomfort for attempting to consume food for pleasure instead of sustenance. "An issue we probably should have seen coming when we gave you freedom over your food choices. Just tell me you got things other that candy." </p><p>Bucky opened the fridge to show the vegetables he had ordered and the contents of Steve's fruit basket. </p><p>Sam nodded. "Okay. Good. Maybe we should set you up a session with a nutritionist to talk about healthy food choices, but for now, you do you." </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure what Sam meant by the last part, but he nodded anyway, and he agreed when Sam suggested he help with preparing lunch to make sure Bucky didn't die of a sugar overdose. This meant that Sam was stepping into the role of handler. Bucky felt a sense of satisfaction as Sam retrieved ingredients for lunch from the fridge.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were still no punishments. Bucky wasn't sure if this meant he was passing the test or if the punishments were being stored up for the end, to be dealt out together once they had accumulated all his failures. </p><p>He went to his sessions with Bruce again, not wanting to risk breaking his schedule another time so soon after the first transgression, even though Sam had seemed calm about it. The only acknowledgement Bruce made about the missed appointment was a remark about how it was good to see him. Bucky nodded, noting this for the future. Attending his appointments was good, which meant missing one had been bad. He would remember that, and he tried not to think about what would be done to him for missing the previous appointment as he got under Bruce's scanner. </p><p>"I hope you don't mind me saying," Bruce said, once the normal scans were done, "but your anxiety levels seem as high as the first time I put you through the scans. Is that because Steve isn't here?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. Steve not being there was linked to his anxiety, because he wasn't sure how to function without a handler, but he didn't want Bruce to think that he wanted Steve. Steve not being here just meant there was one less person to report on behaviour that deserved punishment. Steve not being there meant he no longer had to face him lying every instant with his mere presence. </p><p>"I could show you some relaxation techniques, if you like," Bruce said. </p><p>Bucky agreed, because Bruce clearly thought that lower anxiety was better. Bucky knew that sometimes relaxation was important. Relaxing muscles before an impact lessened injury from falls. In low oxygen environments, relaxation could reduce his breathing to allow for longer endurance. If Bruce thought Bucky needed to relax, he would try. </p><p>So instead of performing more scans or experiments, Bruce walked with Bucky to the elevator and told JARVIS to take them to the botany lab. Bucky didn't ask if he was allowed in there. It hadn't been on the list of places Sam had given him, but then Sam had specifically been talking about places Bucky was allowed to go on his own. Presumably things were different when he was with Bruce. </p><p>"You don't have to go to a specific place to meditate, these techniques will work everywhere, but this is one of my favourite places in the whole Tower for relaxation." </p><p>The elevator doors opened with a blast of humid air, revealing a world of green. The space beyond was full of growing things. Planters led away in neat rows, robotic arms distributing water and monitoring the small plants. Beyond them, vines and climbers grew up trellises, flowers filling the air with scent. Bruce led the way past these orderly containers of organic growth and a few people who were working among them. The people glanced over in their direction but didn't attempt to approach. </p><p>A thick hedge rose almost to the height of the ceiling, blocking off an area beyond like a private room. Bruce led him through an archway in this hedge and onto a lawn of springy moss hemmed with flowers. Someone had painted the ceiling blue, with a few patches of white meant to mimic fluffy clouds and a quiet fan moving in lazy arcs up near the ceiling blew a facsimile of breeze. The illusion wasn't perfect, but it would be easy to imagine that this hedged off area was outside. </p><p>Bruce sat down on the moss, crossing his legs, and beckoned for Bucky to do the same. Bucky felt a little thrill at this because Steve had told him to use furniture. By sitting on the ground, he was going against what Steve had told him, which was yet another sign that Steve had been wrong, but he was also doing what he was told, so he wouldn't be punished. </p><p>He sat in front of Bruce, mimicking his posture. </p><p>"Close your eyes," Bruce said. "Start by breathing normally, but focus your thoughts on your breathing. Think about how it's moving your body. Don't worry if your mind wanders. Just let the thoughts drift across your mind and then focus on your breathing again." </p><p>Bruce kept talking, his voice low and quiet. Bucky listened to the sound of it, the words drifting over him in simple orders, easy to obey. He paid attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest. For the first time in far too long, he didn't have to worry that he was doing something wrong. Bruce's orders were easy to follow and clear. He could let go of the fear that had been a constant since Steve had taken over as his handler. </p><p>He found himself slipping into something like the calm state of waiting, that mode of being when no one had any demands of him and all he had to do was exist, free of pain or worry. Time seemed to drift away and Bruce's voice faded to the background. Bucky breathed. He sat. He was. </p><p>"Bucky?" </p><p>Bucky's eyes snapped open and he realised he had stopped paying attention to Bruce's words. All the fears that had drifted away came crashing back onto him. He had stopped listening to a scientist's instructions. There would be pain for that. </p><p>"Sorry," Bruce said. "I wasn't sure if you'd fallen asleep." </p><p>"I wasn't asleep." </p><p>"How did you find that?" </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure about the question. "I found it by following you here?" His statement came out more as a question because he suspected he wasn't answering the question Bruce had intended to ask. Bruce smiled a little at his confusion. </p><p>"I meant the experience of meditating. Did you like it?" </p><p>Bucky considered. Following orders he could obey without difficulty was definitely a good thing, and the activity involved no pain. </p><p>"Yes," he said, then admitted, "but I stopped listening to what you were saying towards the end." </p><p>He waited for anger, for Bruce to call someone in to punish him for this infraction. Bruce just smiled calmly. </p><p>"That's alright. My words were to help guide you into a meditative state. Once you get there, you can stop paying attention to the words and that's no problem. I have to say, I'm a little surprised how well you seemed to do it. When I tried teaching Tony to meditate, he started fidgeting within about a minute and then rushed out to design a new automatic braking system or something." </p><p>"Staying still is not a difficulty. I am trained as a sniper and that often involves waiting in stillness." </p><p>He attempted to describe the calm state of mind he could reach when waiting for orders or for the appropriate time to fire a weapon. Bruce listened carefully to his description of sinking down into a state of being where time fell away, where he simple had to exist and thoughts of fear and pain melted away. He wasn't sure if Bruce would like that, if he would think there was something wrong about an asset not thinking about those things, but he seemed to accept it. </p><p>"It sounds like you might have taught yourself a form of meditation as a way of coping with those times." </p><p>Bucky nodded, because the feelings were similar. </p><p>"If it helps with the anxiety, you can come here to meditate. Just be aware that some of the botanists like to eat lunch here, so it's best to avoid the middle of the day if you want quiet." </p><p>"This place isn't on my list of allowed locations," Bucky pointed out. </p><p>"Don't worry about that. JARVIS, please allow Bucky to come here if he asks." </p><p>"Noted. I will inform Captain Rogers and Mr Wilson of this adjustment to parameters." </p><p>"That's fine. You do that." </p><p>Bruce climbed to his feet and held a hand out to Bucky to help him up. Bucky's legs were stiff from the period of stillness, but he didn't want to show discomfort, so he avoided shaking them out as Bruce was doing. He followed Bruce back to the elevator and Bruce told JARVIS to take him back to his lab. Bruce had said there would be no more tests for today, so Bucky risked giving an order too, telling JARVIS to take him to his floor. He got a little thrill at the fact JARVIS obeyed him. </p><p>The rest of the day passed as many others had. Bucky changed into running shoes and went to the gym. He showered. He prepared a healthy and nutritious lunch, which he ate along with another of the nutrient shakes. He also ate a chocolate bar, because to do otherwise would be wasteful. Besides, no one had punished him for having the chocolate yet, so he would continue to enjoy it until they did. </p><p>After he had eaten, he went up to the common room at the top of the Tower. He still wasn't sure what he was supposed to do without orders and this long stretch of the day between now and the communal meal that was booked in his calendar felt a little too much. He took the tablet Sam had given him because he had been told he could use the games and applications on it, but he didn't want another day of waiting in his room. It was too easy to start thinking, to start worrying about the inevitable fallout for all the liberties he was taking. Unless he was going to be punished more for not following the instruction to pretend to be a person. Worrying about that sent his thoughts into a circle he couldn't easily escape from. </p><p>So he went to the common room, and the fact that JARVIS took him there in the elevator meant that he couldn't be doing anything too wrong. These were actions within the limits set by Steve and Sam. </p><p>When he first stepped out of the elevator, the common room appeared empty, but he ran his eyes around in a quick sweep, and his gaze went upwards. There were lighting fixtures up near the ceiling, running around the edge of the room. A man was perched on one of these in a pose that didn't look comfortable but which would give him a good vantage over the whole room, including the elevator and the windows. At least, it would have given the man a good vantage if he wasn't playing on his phone. </p><p>Bucky moved slowly  into the room, doing another sweep with his eyes in case this man wasn't alone. He might be waiting in ambush, or a lookout for others who had better hiding places, but there was no sign of anyone else. The guy looked up from his phone, straight towards Bucky. </p><p>"Oh, hey," the man said. He gave a little wave and then put his phone into a pocket, an action which involved extending one leg to get access to the pocket and leaning sideways as he did so. It seemed like the movement ought to knock him off his perch, but he remained perfectly balanced, leaning just enough to compensate for the leg movement. Then he returned to his crouched pose on the light, smiling down towards Bucky. </p><p>"You noticed me pretty quick," the man said. "Most people don't spot me. Even Tony usually takes a minute to spot me and then he complains I'm going to give him a heart attack. Normally it's only Nat who spots me right away." </p><p>"You weren't concealed," Bucky said. </p><p>"Yeah, but how many people look up into the corners of the room when they walk in somewhere? It's not a habit most civilians get into." </p><p>He put his hands on the light fitting and dropped down, swinging around so that his arms didn't get twisted, ending up hanging from the light. The drop below was one which might have seemed alarming to a civilian, but it was clear from his words that this man was far from that. He let go, swinging forward so that he had enough momentum to turn the fall into a roll. He ended up on his feet with no apparent effort or injury. Bucky wasn't sure he would be able to pull off such a decent with such apparent ease. </p><p>"I'm Clint," the guy said, holding out a hand. </p><p>Bucky knew he was supposed to pretend to be a person so he reached out and accepted the handshake. "Bucky." </p><p>"Cap just lets you wander around?" </p><p>Bucky knew that by Cap, he meant Steve. Clint was asking if his presence here was authorised. </p><p>"Steve and Sam gave me a list of places I can go unescorted. The common room is on the list." </p><p>"Cool." Clint nodded vaguely and then seemed to grow excited. He grinned. "Do you want to see my favourite place in the Tower?" </p><p>It was clear what answer he wanted Bucky to give. "Yes." </p><p>Clint walked over to the big expanse of glass windows, to the one which was built to slide aside as a door. He touched a control beside the door and then frowned up towards the ceiling. </p><p>"JARVIS, come on." </p><p>"Sergeant Barnes is not authorised to leave the Tower." </p><p>"We're ninety floors up. Where's he going to go? It's not like he's going to jump off the top of the Tower." He turned to Bucky. "You're not, are you?" </p><p>"No." Self-destructive tendencies were not allowed, if he interpreted what Sam had told him when he'd learned about the chocolate bars. Jumping off a building as tall as this would definitely count as self-destructive. </p><p>"See. Come on, Jarvis. I'll take the heat if Cap gets upset." </p><p>A little light on the door control went green and Clint grabbed the handle. "Thank you, J." </p><p>He slid the door open and stepped outside onto the windy walkway that led out from the common area. It was not a large space, but would be large enough for the two of them to stand comfortably, except Clint walked around the edge of the building. Below them, Bucky could see what looked like a landing pad for small air craft built into the roof, but Clint didn't pay attention to that. He walked confidently along a narrow ledge that ran along the side of the Tower, away from the designated area for aerial landings. </p><p>Bucky had seen the Tower from the outside but it was very different seeing it from below to seeing it from this angle. There was a very long drop below. If Bucky was not careful, a misstep could send him plummeting to the ground below, but he was confident in his positioning. Still, it was almost a relief when he realised where Clint was aiming for. There was a large letter A on the side of the Tower and Clint climbed from this thin walkway into the triangle formed by the top part of the A. He sat down, legs dangling over the ninety floor drop, and leaned back against the wall of the Tower. </p><p>There was room for Bucky to sit beside him and doing so, with the solid wall at his back, actually felt stable, despite the wind that buffeted at them. </p><p>"This is my favourite place in the Tower," Clint said, gesturing widely. Bucky decided it would be unwise to correct him and point out that this was on the Tower and not inside it. "You can see everything from up here." </p><p>The position did give an impressive view, but not a strategically useful one. Their vantage gave no view of anything that might be approaching from the other side of the Tower. They had no quick escape route should they be surprised. In fact, their only options were to go back they way they'd come, circle the Tower in the other direction, or try to break through windows which were no doubt reinforced. It was not a tactically favourable position. Even if he could get up here with a sniper rifle, he would have limited range of motion without losing balance. </p><p>It was interesting, to see the city from such an unusual position, but its main value was to teach him that he didn't wish to be in this position long. He was also not dressed appropriately for it. He had been expecting to remain inside the Tower and his clothing had been chosen from the slim selection available to him with that scenario in mind. If he were to remain out here for long, the cold wind might reduce his effectiveness. </p><p>"What do you think?" Clint asked. </p><p>Bucky didn't like this position but he also didn't want to offend Clint, especially not while he was in a vulnerable position. Getting into a fight here would be dangerous, potentially lethal, for both of them. Receiving punishment here might be dangerous too, even if he didn't defend himself. </p><p>"Thank you for sharing your favourite place with me," Bucky said. </p><p>It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't an insult to this place either. </p><p>"You don't like it? Don't worry, most people don't. You don't want to know the things Nat called me when I told her I come here to relax. We can go back inside if you prefer." </p><p>Bucky was glad to take the permission. He took hold of the edge of the A for balance and climbed carefully back to his feet. Getting out of the middle of the A required some difficult maneuvering because the side of the letter was almost as wide as his arm span. Bucky had promised he wouldn't jump off the Tower but for one worrying moment, falling off it felt like a real possibility. But then he was back on the walkway, making his way round to the common room entrance again. </p><p>As he approached the sliding door, he saw someone standing on the other side. Steve stared out at him, eyes wide and worried. What was he worried about? Was he worried that Bucky had escaped? Or that he might hurt Clint? Or was he worried that he would be punished should Bucky fall to his death? Whatever was behind that worry, Bucky was sure this meant something bad for him. He had gone beyond the bounds Steve and Sam had set for him. The fact that he had done so at Clint's invitation didn't change the fact that Bucky would likely face punishment for this, all for seeing a place he didn't particularly like. </p><p>Steve stepped back from the doorway, allowing Bucky access. Bucky glared at Steve, ignoring the sound of Clint closing the door behind them. </p><p>"Are you alright?" Steve asked Bucky. </p><p>That wasn't a question he had been anticipating. </p><p>"Yes," he said. He didn't attempt to offer excuses or explanations. Those always made the punishment worse. </p><p>"I just wanted to show him the view," Clint said. </p><p>"He can see the view fine from inside without risking his neck." </p><p>"You're such a killjoy." </p><p>Bucky wondered if Clint would be punished for this. After all, it had been Clint's offer, his instructions that Bucky had followed, but Bucky had known that he was disobeying the rules. Clint had just been trying to share something he liked. Bucky didn't quite understand that sentiment but it meant that he didn't want to see Clint punished. Clint had offered to take the heat, had offered to accept the blame but now, seeing the angry look Steve shot over Bucky's shoulder, Bucky didn't want to let him. </p><p>"I knew I was breaking the rules in leaving the areas you and Sam authorised," Bucky said. "Clint is not to blame." </p><p>"This isn't about blame," Steve said. "This is about safety." </p><p>Bucky couldn't argue that he'd been safe. He'd felt the risk of a fall when he'd been out there, aware of the dangerous nature of the position. Perhaps going out onto a narrow ledge and climbing about on giant letters not built for climbing counted as self-destructive behaviour. Even with his enhancements, a fall from this height might be lethal for him. </p><p>"Give him a break, Cap," Clint said. "We do more dangerous things than that every other day." </p><p>"What if he'd fallen!" Steve was extremely distressed about the possibility. His voice cracked with emotion. He looked Bucky straight in the eye and said, "I can't watch you fall again." </p><p>Again. </p><p>That was the word Bucky noticed above all the others. Again. When had Steve seen him fall?</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky had his first communal dinner up in the common room. He headed up at the time marked in his schedule and found some familiar faces already there. Sam walked over to the elevator with a broad grin on his face while the others kept their distance, sitting at the couches in one of the lower areas of floor. </p><p>"Hi, Bucky." </p><p>"Hi, Sam." </p><p>"Glad you could make it." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He'd been told he didn't have to come, but this was like the appointments with Bruce, where attending was clearly the correct choice out of the options he'd been given. Even if Steve was sitting on one of the couches, looking so tense he might snap in two if he moved, and deliberately not looking in Bucky's direction. </p><p>"You can leave any time you want," Sam continued. "If it gets too much for you, or you just want some peace and quiet, you can go back to your apartment. You only have to stay as long as you feel like it. There are no rules about having to stay or punishments for leaving." </p><p>Bucky nodded, even though he knew it wasn't as simple as that. This was the dinner appointment in his schedule. If he left now, he wasn't sure he was allowed to eat. Even though he'd been given control of his own feeding, it felt like a transgression to even consider eating on his own when he was supposed to be here, eating with the group. So he would stay, and Sam had made it clear that was the right choice of the options he'd been given. </p><p>"Can I have a hug?" he asked. Because he'd done the right thing, even if he'd been told that hugs weren't supposed to be used as rewards. </p><p>"Of course," Sam answered. The hug was brief, but it was there, giving him a momentary burst of warmth that went some way to easing his anxiety before Sam returned to the group at the couches and Bucky was forced to follow him. </p><p>Steve looked up at him as Bucky approached but didn't move or stand. </p><p>"Hey, Buck," he said quietly. </p><p>"Hi, Steve." </p><p>Bruce was sitting next to Steve, with Tony beside him. Sam took a seat on one of the other big couches and Bucky moved to sit beside him, putting himself closer to Sam than the size of the couch warranted. No one commented on his positioning. There was no sign of food. Bucky frowned at the empty coffee table between them. </p><p>"Where's the dinner?" he asked Sam. Because he was here specifically so he could have food. </p><p>It was Bruce who answered. "Clint's picking up the take out order. He didn't trust anyone else to get the right pizza." </p><p>"Please," Tony scoffed. "That guy would eat week old pizza out of a dumpster." </p><p>Bucky didn't like the thought of that. He wasn't sure why someone who could make decisions like that was in charge of the food acquisition. Even his disastrous decisions about food acquisition hadn't involved dumpsters. </p><p>"Have you met Clint?" Bruce asked Bucky. </p><p>"Yes." Then, because it felt like more information was required. "He showed me his favourite place and Steve got angry." </p><p>"I was worried, Bucky, not angry." </p><p>That was another lie. </p><p>"You were angry," Bucky said. Contradicting a handler wasn't allowed, but Steve wasn't his handler anymore, and he wanted everyone here to know how Steve lied constantly. He wanted them to hear it and judge him for it. </p><p>"Okay, maybe I was a little angry, but only because I was scared. Climbing about on the top of the Tower isn't safe. You could have got seriously hurt." </p><p>"It's not your job to look after me anymore." </p><p>"It might not be my job but that sure as hell doesn't stop me caring!" </p><p>Steve was getting angry again, close to shouting. He leaned forward in his seat and Bucky flinched away, half-expecting Steve to jump across the coffee table at him. Steve caught the gesture and froze. He pulled himself back. </p><p>"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't... I'm sorry." </p><p>Bucky wasn't entirely sure what he was apologising for, so he said nothing. He knew he shouldn't have reacted like that. Steve was still a Steve. He wouldn't have hurt Bucky, not much anyway. There was an awkward moment of silence as Steve and Bucky stared at each other. Bucky was aware of Sam shifting uncomfortably beside him and he caught the looks Bruce and Tony gave each other out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his attention focused on Steve. </p><p>Thankfully, they were interrupted by the elevator doors opening and Clint walking in. At least, it was presumably Clint, but his entire upper body and face were hidden behind the giant stack of pizza boxes. Clint tripped on nothing halfway across the room and only Steve leaping up from his seat to help stopped the pizzas from going everywhere. Steve steadied the leaning pile and then took half of it from Clint, helping carry the food to the table. Bucky watched the whole thing, trying to calm the racing in his heart that had started when Steve moved suddenly again. </p><p>Sam put a hand on Bucky's arm. </p><p>"Are you okay?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper. Bucky nodded. </p><p>Steve hadn't hurt him. Even if Steve wasn't his handler anymore, he was still a Steve. That meant he wouldn't be the one to administer punishments, even when they decided the time or location was right to administer them again. Bucky shouldn't have reacted the way he had. Flinching from an authority figure was bad. He should probably add this to the list of reasons he would be punished. </p><p>"How much pizza did you think we needed?" Bruce asked. If he'd noticed Bucky's reaction, he was pretending not to. </p><p>"I've seen Cap eating and now there's two of them," Clint deposited the pizzas on the coffee table and gestured vaguely in Bucky's direction. "I wanted to make sure there'd be enough left for me." </p><p>He lifted the lid of the nearest box and grabbed a slice without even checking what flavour the pizza was. The others were a bit more careful, opening boxes and spreading them about on the table so that they could see what choices were available to them. Bucky watched them all making their choices or handing boxes between members of the group so that each could reach whatever option they wanted. It was strange that they didn't even seem to think about the choices available to them, though Bucky supposed that was down to practice. Just as he could react in combat without having to think about it, they had been trained in choices in a way he wasn't. </p><p>He looked at the array of flavours. Vegetables and meats were on the different pizzas. Two were plain, made with just cheese and tomato. One of the pizzas had a sauce of a darker shade than the rest. Another had some sort of brown sauce dribbled over the meat toppings. Bucky knew he was expected to choose but he didn't know where to start. He couldn't even go by nutritional content because he doubted that even those with chopped vegetables on would count as healthy eating. </p><p>"Help yourself," Sam said. Everyone else had slices in hand. Clint was well on the way to finishing his. Bucky had to make a choice. He looked at the slice Sam had in his hand and then reached out for another slice in that flavour. </p><p>It was nice. The flavours of the tomato and cheese balanced each other out, the dough of the base yielding easily to his teeth, the meat sausage toppings adding a sharp tang of spice from whatever was mixed in with the meat. There was a sense of weight to the food, the feeling of substance that suggested it would provide a good amount of energy, enough to fuel him through training or combat. </p><p>"Eat as much as you want," Sam told him. "It looks like Clint's bought enough to feed a couple of armies." </p><p>"You mock, but I'm sure we'll all be grateful later than I didn't skimp once these two have had their fill." Clint grabbed another slice, waving it towards Steve and Bucky in turn. </p><p>There was a lull in conversation. Steve broke it by asking, "How've you been, Buck?" </p><p>"Good," Bucky answered. Then, because he wanted to rub in how much Sam was as a handler than Steve, even if he was leaving Bucky alone more than he'd like. "Sam let me spar with him." </p><p>Steve's eyes widened with worry at that statement. "Was that... How did that go?" </p><p>His eyes moved between Bucky and Sam so much that Bucky wasn't sure which of them the question was aimed at. He paused, letting Sam answer the question if he thought it was aimed at him. </p><p>"It was a workout," Sam said. "But Bucky has excellent control. I didn't get so much as a bruise." </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure that was entirely true. He might have caused minor bruising at the end, trying to make Sam yield, but he didn't want to disagree. </p><p>"I do have excellent control," he said. "The sparring was challenging with the restrictions to not cause injury or damage to the wings but that made the situation more engaging." </p><p>"I'm glad you had fun," Steve said, not sounding remotely glad. </p><p>"What's your score on the obstacle course?" Clint asked. </p><p>"I haven't been allowed onto the obstacle course," Bucky answered. </p><p>Clint looked outraged. "Seriously? The most fun place in the Tower and they're not letting you into it? I thought you didn't want him to be deprived anymore." That last was aimed in Steve's direction. Bucky noticed the way Steve flinched at the words. </p><p>"Military activity is banned under the terms of his release to our custody," Steve said. "Combat training probably counts. He shouldn't even be sparring." </p><p>"It's not like the obstacle course involves real guns," Clint argued, "and he can't hurt anyone else in there. What's the harm? You shouldn't be keeping him away from the best places in the Tower." </p><p>"If the obstacle course is a 'best place' in the way that the last one you showed me was, I might be okay with that," Bucky said. He spoke without really thinking through the words or how they might be interpreted. It wasn't good to say something that implied a criticism of Clint's favourite place, especially since he had appreciated being shown it, but he'd said the words anyway, his tone shifting without his intention to something lighter. Something joking. </p><p>A teasing tone, he realised. He hadn't known he could sound like that until he'd said it. </p><p>From the wide-eyed look on Steve's face, he hadn't known Bucky could sound like that either. </p><p>Clint responded, unperturbed by the strangeness of Bucky's voice. "The obstacle course is a lot of fun. It's tough, with robot drones that shoot at you if you don't move quickly enough, and every time this guy gets bored," he jerked a thumb towards Tony, "he reconfigures the traps so you never know what to expect. At one point, he swapped out half the ropes in the overhead net with really realistic looking laser projections." </p><p>"A quarter of the ropes," Tony correction. "A third at the most. The net still needed to have structural integrity." </p><p>"That does sound like an interesting challenge," Bucky said. If there were active opponents in the form of drones, as well as potential traps hidden in the obstacles, he would have to employ his mind as well as his body to navigate a course like that. He would have to plan on how to avoid dangers both known and unknown. </p><p>"See," Clint said to Steve. "And it's not like it's real combat. He should be allowed to play in it." </p><p>Bucky was glad someone saw how Steve was wasting his potential. "Thank you." </p><p>Clint jolted a little, obviously surprised to be thanked. "You're welcome?" </p><p>"Fine," Steve said. "If you want to try the obstacle course, I won't object, but it's not my call to make. Tony?" </p><p>Bucky remembered that Steve had had to ask permission of Tony for him to use the gym. Apparently he got to make decisions about the obstacle course as well. </p><p>"Sure. Everyone wants to play with my toys. If you want to keep the government worrywarts off your back, we can call it calibration testing for when we fit his new arm. He'll need to make sure it's functioning properly and we might as well put it through its paces on the course." </p><p>"Cool," Clint grinned. "You'll have to see if you beat Cap's score. You obviously don't stand a chance of beating mine." There was a deliberate challenge in his voice that Bucky recongised. An asset wasn't allowed to argue with a handler, but Clint wasn't a handler. He wasn't in any position of authority over Bucky. So Bucky only felt the standard level of apprehension he felt about everything as he met Clint's challenging stare and replied with, "We'll have to see about that." </p><p>Clint didn't seem angry at Bucky's comment. He just smiled back wider.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky hadn't forgotten about the plan to install a new arm and, after the comments over dinner, he was unsurprised when a new appointment was added to his schedule. Tony put in a block of several hours to fit and test the new arm. So Bucky went to the lab at the appointed time. The new arm lay on a work bench that was significantly cleaner than it had been on every other visit. It gleamed faintly, a dark polished form that was still metallic but less silver than his current arm. It would draw less attention. While it had a shine to it, it wouldn't be as bright and obvious as the one he'd had for as long as he could remember, which would be an advantage in missions where stealth was required. </p><p>Tony started talking as soon as Bucky walked in. "I should be able to hook the connections up to the interfaces of your current arm, but we might need to do a bit of tuning to get the sensitivity right. Likewise the movement controls. There's a lot of potential power, so we need to make sure that the signals from your brain are appropriately calibrated. We don't want you to throw something into orbit when you're trying to lift it gently. I want to remove some of the support structures from your old arm and replace them with something lighter and less obtrusive, but some of the metal plates are bolted to your bones and it will take pretty major surgery to get them out, and Bruce says I'm not allowed to start digging around in people's flesh and that I should leave surgery to actual surgeons, even though I turned out perfectly fine." Tony tapped something in the middle of his chest which gave a surprisingly solid noise. There was something embedded in his body there. Had Tony put it in himself? Was Tony an Asset, with parts removed and replaced to make him more effective? </p><p>Bucky had always thought of an Asset and a technician as being different, separate roles with no overlap between them. But if Tony was an Asset, or had been an Asset, then that implied Bucky was wrong about that. Perhaps an Asset could change and become something else. Perhaps Sam's words weren't a trap and an Asset could become a person. He could take on a new role. Perhaps he could learn to handle himself through the current situation and maybe he could become a handler for other Assets. He certainly couldn't do a worse job than the current handlers. </p><p>Tony kept talking, unaware of the thoughts and realisations running through Bucky's head. </p><p>"I'm going to do what I can to disable the connections to your nervous system as I swap out the arms so in theory you shouldn't feel a thing, but I need you to tell me if anything starts to hurt." </p><p>Bucky had been told to ask questions if he was confused, so he asked, "Why?" </p><p>"So I can stop it hurting, duh." </p><p>That didn't do anything to remove the confusion. </p><p>"Why would you want to stop it hurting?" Bucky asked. </p><p>That question actually silenced Tony for several long seconds. He blinked at Bucky, looking as though he'd spoken in a foreign language that he was working to translate. </p><p>"Hurting people is generally considered a bad thing," Tony said. "I mean, there are exceptions, like if you have to hurt a bad guy to stop him from hurting someone else worse, that's probably fine, but hurting someone you're trying to help when you could not hurt them instead is a big no-no." </p><p>"That is inconsistent with prior protocol," Bucky said. </p><p>"Yeah, because your previous protocols came from HYDRA and HYDRA are a big pile of bastards. We don't go around torturing and experimenting on people around here. Now sit your ass down so I can start switching out these arms and you let me know if you get so much as a twinge." </p><p>Bucky sat down as instructed and laid his metal arm on the workbench. Beside him, Tony pulled out various tools. </p><p>"I killed your mother," Bucky remarked. </p><p>"You remember that?" Tony had a small tool in one hand but he didn't bring it near the arm yet. He tapped it against the workbench, studying his hand instead of Bucky. </p><p>"No, but you said I did. I killed your mother and you still want to avoid hurting me." </p><p>"Yeah, well, the people who made you do it gave you an arm powered by electric shocks. That earns you a few sympathy points." </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure what sympathy points were. Perhaps they were a score system for measuring his worth or judging whether he deserved a reward. He hoped they weren't a way of tracking what punishment he'd earned. He stopped talking and let Tony begin his work, opening up a tiny panel above the star to access the inner workings of the arm and proceed with disconnecting it. </p><p>He let the last few minutes' of conversation drift through his mind while he watched Tony work. No one had hurt him since he had been transferred to SHIELD and the new Steve. Sam had said they would be no punishments while he was here. Tony was trying to work on his arm without hurting him, had in fact built him a whole new arm so that it could be powered without requiring him to be hurt. It wasn't possible that there would be no more pain. There was always more pain. But perhaps these people truly meant it about trying to reduce the pain. </p><p>Perhaps this was the counter-balance to the fact he hadn't been given a proper reward. If there was less pain then there was less reason for rewards. But the therapist had said that sexual touches shouldn't be used as rewards, so perhaps if there was a disconnect between pleasurable touches and reward, there was also a disconnect between punishment and pain. He could be hurt without it being a punishment, and there were some punishments that weren't about physical pain. It was a complicated subject. He could handle a little pain if it meant someone would give him a reward again. </p><p>He didn't want pain, but if pain was a necessary step towards receiving rewards, then he would accept it. The lack of either filled him with a sense of sadness. As Tony manipulated wires and controls and connections, Bucky almost wished that there would be a spark of pain that he could endure bravely if it meant that Sam would come to his room and reward him later. But Tony was too good at his job. He worked quickly, occasionally muttering to himself, and then Bucky's entire arm went slack, cutting off all sensation he had. </p><p>"There, I think that's off," Tony said. He stopped poking his tool around inside the arm and instead jabbed it along the surface. "You feel anything?" </p><p>"Nothing." </p><p>"Okay. I'm going to go for a disconnect. You might want to hold on to it so that I don't drop it." </p><p>Bucky reached across and wrapped his flesh hand around the upper portion of the metal arm. Tony poked again and this time there was a faint clunk and the arm fell free of the shoulder. He lay it down carefully on the workbench, an inert lump of metal. He studied it, uncomfortable with the sight of a piece of himself lying there, unconnected to him, but Tony was already moving, picking up the new arm and positioning it over the socket. </p><p>"That was the easy part done with," Tony remarked. He gestured forward a mechanical creation that moved without any obvious controls to direct it. It had a long, articulated pole that ended in a hinged jaw. </p><p>"Hold that in place," Tony told it, and the machine closed its jaw around the new arm before locking into motionlessness. </p><p>"It can understand?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Rudimentary artificial intelligence and natural language processing. I had to do a lot of experiments and iterations before I got enough sophistication in the programming to build JARVIS. Now hold still." </p><p>Bucky had been trying to twist his neck to see the machine but now he went still, waiting for Tony to begin the work to connect the arm. </p><p>Tony began working silently at first, his little tool occasionally clicking against the metal and some faint hums coming from inside the arm. After a few minutes of that, Tony seemed to relax into the process and his mouth started working again. </p><p>"So the whole telling-Cap-you-hate-him thing, how did that go down? Did he cry? I bet he cried." </p><p>Bucky had seen enough of Tony interactions with Steve to know who he meant, even though he seemed incapable of using anyone's official designation. </p><p>"He didn't cry," Bucky answered. </p><p>"It must have been a shock for him though. From the stories my dad told me, I always figured you had a love to last the ages. He was forever telling me the story about Cap's first mission and how he risked his life to fly Captain America into enemy airspace and drop him behind enemy lines to go rescue you. From the way Dad told it, he seemed to think Captain Deathwish would have taken on the whole German army single-handedly if it meant even faintest chance of rescuing you from danger." </p><p>The words washed over Bucky but they meant nothing. </p><p>"I have no memory of the mission you refer to. It must have been wiped." </p><p>"This was before HYDRA started scrambling your brains. JARVIS, fish out the information you can find in the public domain about Cap's first mission. It was a big deal at the time - plastered across the news for propaganda reasons - so there's a lot that was written at the time and basically every historical account on the life of Captain America and most of the ones on the war talk about it a lot. JARVIS, send the material you find to his tablet." </p><p>"Of course, sir," replied JARVIS's disembodied voice. "Should I also purchase the available biographies of Captain Rogers? The book Becoming Captain America includes a large section dedicated to the period prior to the war which references Sergeant Barnes in multiple places." </p><p>"Yeah, good idea. That might fill in a few memory blank spots." </p><p>"You want me to have information on things which were erased from my memories?" That made no sense. Things were erased to prevent him from being a security risk or to prevent incorrect behaviour. He wasn't supposed to remember those things. </p><p>But Tony answered, "Obviously. It's all part of the big of the big project to get you right in the head, like Bruce's scans and the therapy and all that. We want you to have your memories back, or at least as much of them can be sorted. I don't know how much of that is plausible after everything HYDRA did to fry your brains." </p><p>This didn't make sense to Bucky. A lot of effort and experimentation had gone into the mind-wiping process. If that process was to be thrown away then it meant that all the pain he'd gone through was for nothing. All that suffering was effectively wasted. </p><p>Tony prodded at something inside the arm. "I'm going to turn on the power now, starting at ten percent. Sensitivity and responsiveness are at the minimum. Let me know if you feel anything." </p><p>He felt something, like a shiver up the limb. He was aware of it in a way he hadn't been a moment before, but otherwise felt nothing. There was no sensation of the workbench under it or of Tony's tool inside the mechanism. Bucky reported this. </p><p>"Okay, I'm going to bring the power levels up slowly. Let me know if anything changes." </p><p>There was no noticeable change, no tangible sensation. Bucky waited to feel something, still expecting pain despite Tony's words earlier. </p><p>"That's on full power," Tony said. "Try wriggling your fingers." </p><p>Bucky tried moving his fingers. There was a slight twitch and then the digits started to slowly bend. He tried to move them faster, to wriggle them as instructed, but it was like moving through viscous liquid, giving a resistance to even the smallest movements. </p><p>"It's alright," Tony said. "Everything's set to the lowest level. The connection's working, which is the important thing. I'll have to dial up the responsiveness to get it to the right level, but first let's test sensation." Tony touched his tool to the surface of the arm, pressing down on it. When Bucky reported no sensation, Tony pressed harder until he felt the barest hint of pressure. Tony tried the exercise again with the fingers. He noticed that sooner, but it still took a great deal of force on Tony's part before the arm picked up on the touch. </p><p>"The fingers are connected to a different set of sensors from the rest of the arm," Tony said. "I've built in different receptors to give you more sensitivity and a broader range of sensations. I'll start dialling up the sensitivity level." </p><p>It took some time to reach the right level, with Tony cautious about increasing the sensation and responsiveness to a middle range point and then giving Bucky exercises to touch or lift small objects, raising the levels again and again in small increments until Bucky could easily pick up an item or feel the strength of his grip on it without having to concentrate. He was sceptical at the start of these exercises, but by the end it was clear that the new arm did allow more sensitivity. He could feel subtleties in texture and pressure that he hadn't been able to before. It wasn't quite the same as with his flesh arm, but it was more akin to interacting with the world while wearing a glove than the muted sensations he was given before. </p><p>While the testing was going on though, Tony kept trying to engage him in conversation. </p><p>"What did Rogers do to get you so upset with him?" he asked, in between questions about the sensor function. </p><p>There were many answers he could give to that question. Bucky was wary of saying too much, but he had to answer the question and answer it honestly. </p><p>"He gives confusing instructions and he lies." </p><p>Tony gave a disbelieving huff of laughter. "Captain Self-Righteous lied to you? Really?" Then he added, "Try picking up the coffee mug again." </p><p>"He's a Steve. All Steves lie." </p><p>"Huh? Okay, now touch these pads." </p><p>There were three pads on the workbench, connected to a power source. He touched each one in turn, astonished by the sensations he felt. He could even feel differences in temperature with the finger tip sensors. </p><p>"It's a lot more durable than your other arm," Tony said, "and can withstand higher temperatures. We don't want to accidentally trigger a pain response, so your sensation of heat will be diminished the hotter something is. Up to about about a hundred degrees, it should feel similar, but this arm can cope with more than that, so bear in mind that if something feels hot with this arm, it would probably give you third degree burns with the other." </p><p>"Understood." </p><p>"Same principle applies with cold. What do you mean by 'all Steves lie'?" </p><p>He had explained some of this to Sam. He didn't understand why Sam hadn't told Tony, unless Tony wasn't authorised to know, in which case Bucky might get punished for telling him. But he'd been asked a question and if he didn't answer direct questions he would be punished. This was why he needed the mind wipes, so he couldn't give away information that other people weren't authorised to know. Certain that there would be pain either way, he went with the option that would avoid immediate punishment and answered Tony's question. </p><p>"Steves pretend to be kind," Bucky said. He didn't want to say more than that, didn't want to admit to all the rest he'd worked out, that the Steves he'd worked with over the years had plenty of opportunity to step in and stop the pain but they never had. They would give him sad looks and say that they didn't want to see him get hurt, but never put out the slightest bit of effort towards stopping him getting hurt. He had no concrete information, nothing solid to pin his understanding on, no memories that told him what he knew was real, but still he felt that Steve ought to try to stop the hurt. If the Steve wasn't a fake Steve, he wouldn't just step aside and let others hurt him. Instead, the Steves would offer false sympathy and reward touches because they knew Bucky would do whatever was necessary to get pleasure instead of pain. But it was like the chair and the command words and everything else: just another way to control him. </p><p>He didn't want to say all this though, because that understanding was locked away in a private part of his mind that didn't get obliterated by the wipes. Just like he knew how to fly a helicopter without remembering how or when he'd learned, he knew that the Steves were just manipulating him, but if he let them know that he knew, they might try to erase that knowledge too. There was so little of him left inside his head that he didn't want to risk that. </p><p>"Look," Tony said, "I'm not going to try and be your therapist here, but maybe you should spend more time talking to him. From the stories my dad told me, you and Rogers were joined at the hip back in the day. He always figured Cap didn't send his location signal deliberately because he didn't want to be saved, because he didn't want to go on in the world with you gone. He was speculating, but I saw Rogers willing to take on half the governments of the world to get you sent here instead of locked away in some max security prison somewhere. Maybe you should take some time to consider that maybe Rogers isn't lying to you or just pretending when he shows you kindness." </p><p>But Bucky knew the kindness wasn't real, or Steve wouldn't have cast him out of the bed when he went seeking a reward. </p><p>Still, he couldn't help wondering about the others things Tony had said, the mission he'd talked about. Tony had implied that Steve had gone on a mission to rescue Bucky, but Steves didn't go into combat. On rare occasions, they might accompany a team if there was going to be a long-term mission, but then they would stay at whatever base or safe house was being used for the duration of the mission. They certainly didn't go up against enemy soldiers for an Asset. They stayed behind, a promise of care and reward to follow a successful mission. Why would this Steve have fought? </p><p>Bucky decided that he would read the files Tony had told JARVIS to send him. It was information about a mission that had been wiped, but if he was being provided with it then he had to be authorised to read it. He would read and try to understand. </p><p>"OK," Tony said, putting aside his tools. "I think we're done here. Do you want to put your arm through a real test?"</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony took him to the gym, but led him through another door that Bucky previously hadn't been allowed to walk through. The others who'd been at the dinner the night before were already gathered, some sitting in comfortable chairs that were positioned to give a good view of two doors on either end of a long wall, and several large screens that covered most of the wall space between the doors. Most of the screens were currently blank, but one showed a list of names and numbers. </p><p>Clint Barton was the first name on the list, next to the number forty-seven. Below him was Natasha Romanov with the number sixty-two, followed by Steve Rogers with seventy-eight. Sam Wilson was seventh on the list, after Thor and Tony, as well as someone called Maria Hill. Bruce wasn't on the list at all. Only ten names were shown and the remaining names were people Bucky hadn't met yet: Sharon Carter, James Rhodes, and Pepper Potts. There was a significant increase in numbers towards the end of the list, with Pepper Potts having a score of over three hundred. </p><p>"You want a low score," Clint said, seeing what Bucky was looking at. He was sprawled across two of the chairs at once in a pose that didn't look comfortable. "The base score is the time it takes you to run the course, one point for each full second." </p><p>"You completed the course in forty-seven seconds?" </p><p>"Not even close, but you get a bonus for taking out the drones. Every drone you can bullseye takes ten points off your score. If a drone shoots you, it adds fifty points, and there are other penalties for touching the red areas." </p><p>"We're not going to use the drones on his first run through," Tony said. "He's going to start on level zero." </p><p>"Seriously?" Clint argued. "How's he supposed to make the top ten on level zero?" </p><p>"This isn't about him getting a top score. This is about him getting used to the new arm. I installed it today. I don't want him destroying the course because he hasn't adjusted to it yet." </p><p>"Like he could do any more damage than Bruce did and it will give you an excuse to mess with the traps again." </p><p>Bruce looked a little sheepish. "Sorry." </p><p>"I'm not saying Tin Man here can't compete for the top spot," Tony said, "but he can do that <i>after</i> he's had a few days to get used to the arm and we know it can handle whatever he throws at it without hurting him." </p><p>Bucky wondered if this was like the conversation they'd had in the lab about pain. Not letting him compete in the obstacle course at a high level of difficulty wasn't about Tony being worried Bucky, might damage the course. He was worried that something might go wrong with the arm and Bucky might be damaged. It seemed very strange to Bucky, like the idea that someone would try to avoid causing him pain. It would take some time to get used to this concept but Tony seemed set on it. </p><p>Tony pressed some buttons on a panel near the left of the two doors. </p><p>"Level zero difficulty," he said. "No traps. No tricks. No penalties. Just the goal of getting through the course as quickly as possible. When I press go, there's a ten second countdown. The last three seconds, this panel will flash green and there's a beeping sound. The door will open on the third beep. That's when the timer for the course will start. Understand?" </p><p>"Yes." It seemed very straight-forward, though he suspected the obstacles would be challenging, even without traps to beware of. </p><p>"Ready?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>Tony pressed the button and then moved aside to give Bucky a clear run for the door. Bucky braced himself on his toes, ready to run. </p><p>He registered the beeps, moving even as the third sounded, passing through the door before it had finished opening. </p><p>The net was right in front of him. He grabbed for the ropes and hauled himself upwards, climbing up to a crossbeam. The net went over the crossbeam and hung down on the other side. Presumably he was meant to climb down, but he could see the next obstacle up ahead: a wall to be climbed. Climbing down the net and up the wall would just slow him down, so he pulled himself into a crouch on the crossbeam instead and jumped the gap. He had to jump from a standing start, so it wasn't his best effort. He slammed into the the top of the wall, stomach hitting against its hard edge painfully, but not so painfully as to slow him down. </p><p>His arms and upper body were over the top of the wall so it was a simple matter to swing himself down on the other side. </p><p>There was a stretch of about fifty meters with hurdles placed at regular intervals but irregular heights. He ran, leaping each one in turn before being faced with another wall. This one ran up the ceiling so it wasn't meant to be climbed over, but there was a low gap at the bottom. He would have to slither beneath it, crawling on his elbows to fit. As he squeezed through the narrow space, his mind supplied him with an image of crawling on his elbows through mud, a rifle in his hands.</p><p>He shook his head to dismiss the stray image and pulled himself out the other side. He found himself in a narrow passage that bent sharply to one side. He set off at a run, kicking off the wall around the bent only find himself facing another bent two steps beyond. The passage twisted and bent around itself in a disconcerting maze, and he was unable to get up to full speed because he was constantly changing direction, his momentum slamming him into the walls half the time as he tried to adjust. </p><p>He was glad when the passage ended, revealing a stretch of wide but shallow cylinders. His mind furnished him with another image, this time of tyres, and having to run by stepping into each tyre in turn. But no one had given him that rule here, and it was much faster to tread on the wide edges of each of the pseudo-tyres. He had to be careful with his stride length to keep from plunging a foot into a gap and tripping, but he crossed the patch with little difficulty and reached the rope at the other end. </p><p>He grabbed hold of the rope with his new hand and used its strength to haul himself upwards. The arm took the strain as easily as his old one would have done. Hand over hand, he pulled himself towards the hole in the ceiling. He used his legs a little, gripping the rope between them, but most of the power came from his new arm, its strength giving him more speed than his natural limbs would achieve on their own. </p><p>He passed through the hole in the ceiling and found himself in the middle of a web of ropes. They stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, crossing each other at different angles so that there was no clear path through and he had to scramble between them. His enhancements proved little value here, neither speed nor strength much help as he struggled through the tangle of ropes. If this were a real impediment, he would rely on brute strength and pull the ropes out of their housings or snap them into pieces, but the purpose here was to move through the obstacle course, not destroy the obstacles in his way. </p><p>He was sure there had to be a more efficient path through the ropes, but he was left ducking under some, stepping over others, and scrambling between them. A dense web near the floor prevented him from simply sliding under the lot of them. The web lasted a little over ten metres, but it had significantly slowed him down. </p><p>When he finally made it out of the ropes, he wanted to run again, but was forced to stop a few paces later when he found himself facing a chasm. He could see the foam blocks beneath him, obviously meant to allow a fall without injury, but the course itself was clearly meant to cross over this gap, a net stretching from one side to the other overhead. </p><p>He considered the chasm for a moment but decided not to risk jumping given the width and lack of clear run-up. Instead, he grabbed the net with his metal arm and swung his body forward, grabbing hold of another piece of rope with his flesh hand, and proceeding like a child on the monkey bars, swinging beneath the net until he reach the other side. </p><p>The course took him round a bend and doubled back on itself and he faced the chasm again, this time with a balance beam across it. He had to slow down for the beam. The change in weight of his artificial arm meant he was instinctively trying to compensate for weight that wasn't there, leaning to one side. He could manage fine while walking on a normal floor, but with this narrow beam across the gap, he needed to pay attention or he risked falling. He watched his feet as he walked across the beam, more slowly than he would like. </p><p>The partition walls on either side of him went only partway down to the pit of foam beneath him, so he could see that the chasm continued. He wasn't surprised then to be forced to turn again and faced with yet another crossing. This one involved two lengths of chain, one above the other, so that he could walk along the lower one while holding the upper one for balance. </p><p>The chains were affixed to the walls with enough slack that they swayed alarmingly. Again, he was forced to move more slowly than he would have liked. </p><p>The course next took him through a wider area, with pillars that blocked any straight line from one side to the other. He dodged between them, kicking off the pillars where it would help him to keep up his speed, and then he found himself facing a shaft. There were no handholds, and no rope to help him this time. The only way to climb down was to brace his back against one side and his legs against the other. He used the friction of his own body to keep from sliding down uncontrollably. Except... there was more padding beneath him. There was another mass of foam at the bottom of the shaft. </p><p>Bucky considered all the things Tony had said about now wanting to hurt people, and he let himself fall. </p><p>It was like hitting a marshmallow. He rolled instinctively, relaxing his body into the fall, but he needn't have bothered. The landing was so soft it would have been difficult to cause any injury, the thick foam absorbing all force from the impact. He rolled free of the foam and was ready to run again, sprinting down a straight passage where the floor was uneven, square blocks raised or dropping so make each step a potential trip hazard. He rounded a bent to face another passage. </p><p>This time, large balls hung on chains from the ceiling to make him dodge, but beyond them he could see the door, sliding open for him as he approached. He pushed himself for more speed and pelted through back to the room he'd started from. He stumbled to a halt in a burst of applause. Clint gave an enthusiastic whoop as Bucky arrived. Sam, Tony, and the others applauded more calmly. The only person not applauding was Steve, who sat in a chair in the corner, arms crossed tightly across his chest, glaring at Bucky like he'd done something wrong. </p><p>"Four minutes, seventeen seconds," Clint announced. He gestured to the board, where Bucky's name had appeared, next to a score of two hundred and fifty seven. He was in eighth position, having knocked Pepper Potts from the board altogether. The other screens showed surveillance views of the course. They must have been watching him the whole way around. </p><p>"Impressive score," Sam said. </p><p>"Up top," Clint added, holding up a hand. Bucky stared at the hand, unsure what Clint was after. "Come on, man, don't leave me hanging." </p><p>"He's after a high five," Sam said, standing and moving over to Clint. He hit Clint's open palm lightly with his own. </p><p>"Why?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Because he's five years old at heart," Tony answered, which didn't really explain the purpose, but Clint still had his hand raised, wriggling his fingers at Bucky. Bucky tapped Clint's hand with his own and that seemed to satisfy him. </p><p>"Any problems with the arm?" Tony asked. </p><p>"No malfunctions or pain," Bucky answered. "The weight is throwing off my balance, but I will adjust to that with practice. I can go again. I'm certain I can improve my score." </p><p>"Take a minute to catch your breath and have a drink first," Sam said, so Bucky did. There was a water cooler in this observation room, so he took the order and drank a cup of water. He hadn't noticed he was thirsty. </p><p>"The question is," Tony said, as Bucky sipped his drink, "whether you want to try and beat your score on this level, or if you want to up the difficulty." </p><p>There was no question. Bucky knew without doubt he could beat his score at this difficulty level now that he knew what obstacles to expect, but he was curious about the increased challenge. He had been forced to hold himself back for too long and wanted to put himself to the test. He wanted to see if he could beat Steve. </p><p>"Increase the difficulty," Bucky said. </p><p>"OK." Tony prodded something on the screen by the door. "We are now at level one. Basically the same as before, but now you have to avoid touching anything red. Any time you touch anything red, you get a five point penalty." </p><p>"I understand." </p><p>He set aside the empty cup and prepared himself before the entrance door. </p><p>"Good luck," Tony said, and started the countdown. </p><p>As promised, the course was much the same as before, but now some of the challenges were made more difficult. The low space he had to slither through had a red-coloured ceiling, so he would be penalised if he raised his head. The area that had reminded him of tyres now had red colouring on the top of each of the low cylinders, so he couldn't use the prior cheat and now he had to step down into the holes in the centres and raise his legs high to step over the obstacles and avoid even brushing against their top surfaces. </p><p>The web of ropes had some red strands across it that slowed him further as he had to avoid touching them. The chasm crossings were much as before, and he was more confident in his crossing of the beam this time, though he was still sure he could speed that up. Perhaps he could simply jump. If he jumped with enough force, he could land on the middle of the beam and then kick off again with enough power to reach the far side. That would be much faster, so long as he didn't misjudge the angles. </p><p>The pillars and hanging balls that blocked his path in their respective sections were coloured red, as were some of the floor blocks in the uneven section. He could no longer kick off or rebound against the obstacles but had to avoid them using only his own muscle power against the floor. He could feel the strain in his legs from trying to do all of this at speed, but it was a good strain, and ache that spoke of satisfaction and achievement. </p><p>There was an ache in his cheeks as he burst through the door into the observation room and it took him a moment to work out what it was. He was smiling. His cheeks ached as his mouth bent into an unfamiliar grin against his will, but he didn't stop grinning as he panted for breath and looked at the boards to see his score. </p><p>Three points lower, despite the additional challenges. He had managed to beat his previous score even though several parts of the course had been more difficult. </p><p>He didn't wait to be asked this time, but held up his hand, palm towards Clint. Clint grinned back at him and met their hands together in a light slap. </p><p>"I told you this was the most fun thing in the Tower, didn't I?" Clint said. </p><p>"You did." </p><p>It was only then that Bucky noticed the empty seat in the corner of the room. </p><p>"Where's Steve?" he asked. </p><p>"He left about the time you jumped down the shaft without even pausing to think about climbing down safely," Tony said. "I guess it was too much for him." </p><p>Bucky told himself he didn't care. If Steve didn't want to see Bucky doing the obstacle course, that was on him. It wasn't going to stop Bucky training and proving himself. </p><p>But he couldn't help thinking about Steve's comment from before, about watching him fall. He had been angry at Bucky because he'd risked a fall and he'd left the observation room when Bucky had jumped down deliberately. Something about Bucky falling made Steve upset.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky had questions about Steve, and about Steve's reactions to him, and about all the Tony had told him. But he had a way to find the answers to his questions, thanks to everything Tony had sent to him. When he was done with the obstacle course, he retreated to his room and looked up the information Tony had instructed JARVIS to send him, starting with the book JARVIS had mentioned. The book was sent to Bucky's tablet as an electronic file. He had received briefing packets in this manner before, but previous mission review files didn't usually come with an image of a cover. The title read 'Becoming Captain America' and there was an image of a small, skinny guy standing in front of an oversized version of the shield this Steve had used to fight, the circles around the star visible behind the photograph of the man. </p><p>Bucky stared at the image for a long time. The facial features were extremely similar to the current Steve, but the physique was wildly different. The skinniness of the photographed man was reflected in the face as well, his cheeks hollower, but the similarities were enough that Bucky wondered if he were related to the current Steve, or if this Steve had simply been chosen for the resemblance because he didn't need to have his hair died or other changes made to make him match the image. </p><p>After a long time of staring at the cover image, Bucky actually clicked into the file and began reading. The introduction talked of the meaning Captain America had for all citizens in the United States, the messages behind his stories and the way he was spun into propaganda before talking about the purpose of this book being to look at the man behind the shield, the figure under the mask. It claimed to be seeking out the man and not the myth. There was a lot of language about the high purpose of the book and its mission to shine a light of truth on something often overlooked, but there was little by way of useful information. He moved quickly on. </p><p>The first proper chapter of the book started with family background of someone called Steven Grant Rogers, talking about the courtship and marriage of his parents before summarising his birth in a small hospital in Brooklyn, and then moving quickly onto the death of his father in the First World War. The first chapter spoke of the challenges of a single mother raising a small child and the multiple afflictions of ill-health the boy suffered. Bucky read it, unsure why Tony and JARVIS thought he ought to read it. </p><p>Then he reached the second chapter and the bold text proclaimed: James Buchanan Barnes. He felt a shiver run through him. It was the name they said was his, the name they said belonged to him, and the entire second chapter of this book was named for him. Or he was named for it. It was entirely possible the name was just another lie, calling him by a name that had once belonged to someone else. </p><p>
  <i>No biography of Steve Rogers would be complete without an introduction to the man who stood beside him on so many missions, James Buchanan Barnes, better known as Bucky. It is indisputable that the two of them were friends from a young age but there is some contradiction in the accounts of how they met. In interviews with former friends and teachers, some stories claim that Barnes rescued Rogers from bullies in the school playground at the age of seven, while others say it was the other way around. Barnes' sister, Rebecca Proctor, informed us in an interview that on their first meeting, Rogers punched Barnes in the face.</i>
</p><p>Barnes shuddered at that thought. The idea of a Steve hurting him felt wrong. Steves didn't hit him. But he could almost picture it.</p><p>He read on through the book, looking at the different accounts of the meeting, seeing the echoes of fact within the narratives, working out the pattern, the way the stories would slot together. There would have been bullies and Steve would have fought them, because Steve didn't like bullies, but it wasn't Bucky the bullies had been hurting. There was someone else, some innocent, nameless child who had no role in this story except to be a catalyst for the important meeting. Steve would have seen the bullies hurting someone and he would have tried to fight them, despite being the weedy, frail boy described in the previous chapter. Inevitably, the bullies would have made him their new target and tried to hurt him, and then of course Bucky would have had to step in and protect him because that was what he did. He protected Steve; that was a core part of his function. Bucky would have fought off the bullies and then turned to help Steve. </p><p>He could almost see the scene in his imagination, a scawny boy sprawled in the mud, the sleeve torn to reveal a graze along his right arm. Bucky would have reached down to see if he was alright but Steve was still expecting a fight, still in combat mode to deal with bullies. He wasn't the sort to lie in the mud after a beating and he had come up swinging, tiny fist catching Bucky across the cheek with surprising force for someone so small. </p><p>Bucky brought his hand up to his cheek, the flesh hand, brushing his fingers against the skin as though feeling the ghost of the blow. Was this a memory? Or was he just picturing a scene in his imagination because of the book? He could see it clearly, the expression of rage turning to horror as Steve realised he'd hit his rescuer. </p><p>"Do you always hit people who save your butt?" Bucky would have asked, even though the Bucky now cringed in horror at the thought of speaking so harshly to a Steve. </p><p>"You didn't save my butt," the little Steve would have snapped. "I could have taken them." </p><p>And Bucky would have understood his purpose in life in that moment, the need to protect this fierce little warrior from charging into battle against people who outmatched him in size and numbers. </p><p>Bucky closed his eyes, the words in the book vanishing and leaving him with only the images in his mind. He saw the skinny boy covered in blood and mud. Was this a memory? Was he remembering the first Steve? </p><p>He didn't think it was a product of his imagination because he couldn't imagine arguing with a Steve any more than he could imaging a Steve hitting him. But what did it mean if it was real? Sam had told him he'd been a person once, had been James Buchanan Barnes. Tony had said this book talked about him. If he could remember it, then there was a chance they'd been telling the truth about that. </p><p>He wasn't supposed to remember, he knew that. Remembering meant a failure in the wipe, meant he had to go back to the chair and have electricity pumped through his head again, meant screaming and agony and fire coursing through his entire being. But Tony had said he was supposed to remember, that his sessions with Bruce were about fixing the holes in his mind. He was as confused by this as he'd been about anything else and a part of him wanted to hide away and hope that the memory went away again, but he'd been told to ask questions when he was confused. He'd been given that order and it was one of the few orders he'd been given. </p><p>Bucky set the tablet down. </p><p>"JARVIS, I'd like to see Bruce please," he said. His words were quiet, his tone flat. He sounded calm. He didn't sound like his heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest from fear at daring to make a request. He was following orders. Sam had said he was allowed to make his own appointments to see people and he'd been told to ask people when he didn't understand things. He was only doing what he was told. </p><p>"Dr Banner is in his lab," JARVIS announced, "and is able to see you now if you would like." </p><p>"Thank you." </p><p>Bucky stood and walked to the elevator. He didn't want to see Bruce. His whole body was tense with terror at the thought of seeing him, but waiting wouldn't make the fear any less, or make whatever pain was to come and easier to bear. He let the elevator carry him to the right floor and then he walked into Bruce's lab, his body betraying him and sending prickles of sweat out across his skin. </p><p>"Is something wrong?" Bruce asked. </p><p>"I think I remembered something." He stopped at that, waiting to see how Bruce reacted. If Tony was wrong about him getting his memories back being part of the goal, there would be anger. If not anger, he might simply be wiped again. Despite what Tony had told him, Bucky expected Bruce to demand he go into a new machine to have the mistake corrected. </p><p>Instead, Bruce asked in a gentle tone, "What was the memory? Something from your time with Hydra or before?" </p><p>"Tony had JARVIS give me a book: Becoming Captain America. The second chapter describes the first meeting of Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes. I think I remembered the meeting. I could picture details not included in the book." </p><p>"That would make sense, given what I can see in your brain scans. Your white matter has been healing itself. It's slow, but there's a definite trend when I study the scans over time. This is a good sign. Do you remember what I told you after your first scans?" </p><p>Bucky thought back, trying to remember the first encounters with Bruce, but he'd been so scared, so focused on Steve and on not earning a punishment, that he struggled to remember exactly what had happened, what he'd been told. </p><p>"I don't," he said, because admitting the truth and being punished for failing to recall information he was supposed to was better than being caught in a lie. Bruce didn't seem angry that Bucky had forgotten something, necessitating a repeated explanation. </p><p>"There are different types of brain matter. We often talk about grey matter and white matter. White matter acts as a connection between areas of grey matter. There is a lot of damage to the grey matter in the areas where episodic memory is stored, but it's not completely destroyed. There's also a lot of damage to the white matter around it, but that's regenerating. I think you getting this memory back is not going to be the last. Your brain will start building new connections to allow you to access old memories again." </p><p>"What sort of memories?" </p><p>"That I can't guess at. They could be from your time with HYDRA or from your life before. We won't know until it happens." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He didn't like the uncertainty of this. He didn't know what he might remember and whether it would be information he would even want to remember. He knew that he had experienced a great deal of pain over his years with Hydra and he suspected he would be better off not getting those memories back. </p><p>"Is there a way to control what memories return?" he asked. </p><p>"You might be able to prompt some memories to return," Bruce said. "Memory is a complex, interconnected web of associations. We don't just remember incidents in neat little files that get stored in an orderly way. We remember things in terms of how they connect to other things, and you can sometimes stimulate a memory through that association. You might smell a particular perfume and be hit by a memory of someone who wore that perfume and recall something that a few minutes before, you didn't know you remembered. You said you remembered first meeting Steve while you were reading a book about that meeting?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"That could be the answer then. If you read up about your past experiences, you might find you remember them. If you watch some of the old footage from World War Two, it might spark a connection." </p><p>Bucky nodded again, but Bruce wasn't done. </p><p>"Or," he said cautiously, "you could talk to Steve about all of this." </p><p>Bucky tensed at the thought of deliberately seeking out Steve, but he said nothing. </p><p>"Look, Bucky, if you want to remember your past, Steve's going to be the best person to help you with that. He's the one who knew you before Hydra. He's the one who's been through things with you and who can tell you about them." </p><p>It was impossible for Steve to have known him before Hydra. Steve wasn't old enough. He was just an imposter, another liar using that name. Even if there had been an original Steve, it couldn't be this man. The original Steve was gone, lost to time. </p><p>And yet Tony, Bruce, and Sam all talked about this Steve being the first Steve. They all told him that this Steve was different from the ones he'd known with Hydra. He supposed there was one way he could know. He had the accounts of the first meeting between Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes, but those accounts didn't match the memory. If Bruce was to be believed, that memory was real, was something from his own mind, a record of his own past. He believed that it was his own memory just because of the strangeness of it. </p><p>So he could ask Steve about the first meeting. If Steve told him a story that matched one of the accounts from the book, Bucky would have proof then that he was lying. But if Steve told him a story that matched the images he'd seen inside his own mind, then... then Bucky wasn't sure exactly, but it would be something to consider. </p><p>"JARVIS," Bucky said, "where is Steve?" </p><p>"Captain Rogers is in his apartment. Would you like me to ask him if he is available to meet with you?" </p><p>"Yes."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It hadn't been long ago that Bucky's room had been in Steve's apartment, but it still felt like invading someone else's territory to walk out of the elevator and into Steve's space. Bucky's heart was racing from the anxiety of having this conversation with Steve, but he knew he had to confront this. He had to know what was real. </p><p>He knew that Steve lied all the time. If he could just prove it, then he would know for certain that Steve was lying about this too, that he was just another in the long line of manipulative Steves, and it would be proof that everyone else was lying to him too. He would know for sure that he couldn't trust anyone except himself, and that idea was almost comforting. It was familiar. It was easier to accept than the idea that Steve might be telling the truth. If Bucky couldn't catch Steve in a lie, then he might have to consider that idea and that was so foreign to him that he didn't know what he would do. </p><p>Steve couldn't be different from the others. But he had to be sure. </p><p>Steve waited for him in the living area, keeping his distance. He didn't try to invade Bucky's space, or to offer a comfort touch. He kept the arrangement neutral, and that just made Bucky more unsure. He didn't know if he was going to end up in trouble for this conversation. </p><p>"JARVIS said you wanted to talk to me," Steve said. "Have a seat." He gestured at the couch. "Do you want something to eat or drink?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head, but moved to the couch. He perched himself on the edge of the seat, where he would be able to stand or move with ease. He felt ready to run. </p><p>"I want you to tell me how we first met," Bucky said. </p><p>"Sure. I can do that. It was a long time ago, so I might not remember all the details." </p><p>Bucky nodded. That was an obvious obfuscation if Steve was trying to deceive, but also plausible as truth. </p><p>"We were seven," Steve said. "I went to St Mary's school at the time, while you went to St Stephen's, down the road, so we hadn't ever really met each other before. I was outside the school, just after the end of the day, and the Benuchi twins were picking on some pre-school kid, teasing him, poking him. I don't think they were hitting him, but they were definitely being mean, so I, well, I guess I tried to be the hero." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "I had the muscles of a toothpick at the time, but I charged up to the twins and told them to leave the other kid alone or I'd make them pay. They laughed at me. But on the plus side, they did leave the other kid alone, but only because they decided to teach me a lesson. It wasn't much of a fight. They hit me, shoved me to the ground. I think one of them kicked me while I was down." </p><p>Steve had one of those sad, lying smiled on his face again. </p><p>"You charged in like some kind of avenging angel and hit one of them so hard in the face that his nose started bleeding, and they both ran off. Then you bent down. I guess you were trying to help me up, but I just saw another guy bigger than me looming over me, so I came up swinging." He gave an apologetic smile. "I punched you in the face." </p><p>That matched what Bucky had remembered. He hadn't remembered the names of the boys, but the scenario and the punch, they matched. That hadn't been in the book, not in that way. Did that mean Steve was telling him the truth? Or did he just have other information that wasn't publicly available? His lies would have been proof, but truth wasn't enough to be sure he was truthful about anything else. </p><p>Steve continued talking, "You didn't get angry at me like you should have done. You asked me if I always hit people who saved my butt but I wasn't going to admit that I'd needed help, so I told you that I could have taken them, and you just gave me this look of hopeless exasperation, like, 'who the hell is this kid trying to fool?' I saw that look a lot from you over the years. That was the first time. That was when you looked at me like, 'this kid's gonna need someone to rescue him,' because you never left me alone after that. You were always there whenever I needed help in a fight even though it got you in a hell of a lot of trouble with your mom." </p><p>He hadn't thought about a mother. The very idea of having one would never have occurred to him, yet when Steve mentioned her, he could almost hear a voice, angry but somehow soft, not like a commander. </p><p>
  <i>"What am I going to do with you? You can't just go around picking fights with people."</i>
</p><p><i>"But, Mom, I wasn't picking fights. Steve was."</i> </p><p><i>"Just because Steve Rogers starts a fight doesn't mean you have to finish it."</i> </p><p>"Buck" Steve's voice was soft, almost nervous, a faint sound stretching across the gap between them. He had fallen otherwise silent, story done, as he watched Bucky from his own seat. </p><p>"'Just because Steve Rogers starts a fight doesn't mean you have to finish it'," Bucky quoted. "That's what she said." </p><p>"Your mom?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. "I didn't remember that until now. I didn't remember her." </p><p>He found himself frowning at the floor in front of him. It mattered that he hadn't remembered her, though he wasn't sure he'd be able to explain why. So many other memories had been taken from him, so many pieces of his history erased. Why was it important that this one person from his past had been wiped out along with mission records and old experiences? </p><p>"I could... Do you want me to draw a picture of her?" Steve asked. </p><p>Bucky stared at him for a long moment. It would never have occurred to him to ask for that, that this was even an option, but Steve had just offered. This wasn't a reward for good behaviour, or something he was promising in exchange for compliance. He had just offered. </p><p>Kindness. Tony had said that maybe this Steve wasn't lying when he showed kindness, and here he was, offering to make a drawing of Bucky's mother just because he could. </p><p>It was possible this was a trick. Steve could still be manipulating him, trying to trick him into accepting him back as a handler, or for some other purpose Bucky didn't yet know. He couldn't trust anything a Steve said at face value. And yet... he'd recounted the memory the same way that Bucky remembered it. He'd known things that weren't in the book. And now he was offering this seemingly of his own volition for no purpose except because Bucky might want it. </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"I'd like a picture." It felt like a risk, saying that. It felt like stepping out into the path of gunfire without armour, acknowledging a desire for something. He risked punishment for asking. He risked being coerced into something painful in order to get the promised reward. But Steve just nodded and gave another of those lying smiles. </p><p>"OK," Steve said. "Give me a day or two. I want to make sure I do it justice." </p><p>Bucky nodded again. </p><p>"Is there anything else you want me to tell you about?" Steve asked. </p><p>Bucky shook his head. He would want to ask again, he was sure. If he regained more memories of his past, he might want to check Steve with those as well, to see if he was lying or if there was a chance he might actually be the first Steve, however ridiculous and impossible it seemed. But he didn't have any other memories to check yet. Except...</p><p>"Wait. When I was running the obstacle course, I had a couple of flashes in my mind, little images, like it was something I'd done before. I remembered crawling on my knees through mud, holding a rifle. And those cylinders. I kept thinking about tyres, even though they weren't made of rubber." </p><p>Steve nodded. "Basic training. There were obstacle courses as part of that. We weren't together at basic training - you'd already shipped out before I was signed up by Erskine. I can only tell you what mine was like, but yours was probably similar. Climbing nets, crawling under barbed wire, running through courses of tyres. I swear those obstacle courses nearly killed me. Three different asthma attacks. They were worse than the long distance running." </p><p>Bucky thought back to running the obstacle course here, to trying to figure out the fastest way through or over or around some blocker in the path. Running a long distance was a mindless activity. Yes, he needed to think about pacing, but a lot of that could become instinct, not requiring complex thought process, but an obstacle course could be an intellectual exercise as well. There was logic and strategy as well as brute strength and speed. There was the challenge of trying to out-compete others and knowing that the placement of a foot in a climb could shave a second off, and there was the whole-body ache afterwards, the feeling that every part of him had been involved in the workout. </p><p>"I think I enjoyed the obstacle course," Bucky said. He didn't have any clear memories of it, couldn't picture the basic training course at all, but it sounded right as he said it. "I don't mean the obstacle course here. I definitely enjoyed that. But before... I think I found it fun." </p><p>"Perverse bastard. Of course you would." Steve shook his head, smiling a little, but it wasn't a lying smile this time. It was genuine amusement. It was nice. Bucky almost wished that Steve would show a real smile more often. It looked better on him than the lying smile, the one he showed the rest of the time, even when he was obviously upset. </p><p>The thought of upset reminded him of the other question. </p><p>"You said you couldn't watch me fall again," Bucky said. "When did you watch me fall?" </p><p>The smile vanished. Steve looked away, dragging a hand across his face before he spoke. </p><p>"We were on a mission, boarding a train through the Alps to capture an enemy scientist, the track winding high up on the mountain side. There was a fight. A lot of chaos and somehow in the middle of it I lost my shield. You picked it up and then this Hydra soldier shot at you with a powerful weapon, a blast the blew a hole clean in the side of the train. The shield kept you from getting fried by the blast but you went flying backwards, straight out the hole." Steve's breath shook as he spoke. He looked like he might start crying. "You clung on, by some miracle, grabbed hold of the debris hanging off the side of the train. You were right in front of me. I tried... God, I tried to reach you. You were looking me straight in my eyes and then..." Steve paused, closing his eyes and drawing another shaking breath. "I had my hand out towards you, ready to grab you, and you were just gone. The bar you were holding onto ripped away from the train and you were gone. All I could do was watch you fall." </p><p>Steve blinked rapidly. His eyes sparkled with the tears he was trying not to let out. </p><p>"It was so far. I never... I never dreamed you could have survived a fall like that. I... I should have jumped out after you." </p><p>"That's stupid." Bucky gave his assessment without thinking, without considering the risk of contradicting or insulting a Steve. </p><p>"What?" Steve was startled out of his tearful state. </p><p>"What good would jumping out of the train have done? If it was such a long fall then you would have got yourself killed or injured jumping after me and what good would that have done either of us?" </p><p>"I... I should have done something. I could have tried." </p><p>"Because you getting captured and mind-wiped by chasing after me down a mountainside would have helped anyone." Bucky didn't want to argue with a handler, but someone had to tell Steve he was being idiotic. If Steve was getting so teary-eyed about this then it wasn't like he'd just stood there and done nothing. He said he'd tried to save Bucky, tried to reach him, and for once Bucky didn't think he was lying. And if that was true, then he'd done what he could. It wasn't his fault that it hadn't been enough and the idiot needed to stop trying to take the blame for every bad thing that ever happened in the world. </p><p>"It wasn't your fault," Bucky said. </p><p>"How the hell can you know that? You don't even remember it!" </p><p>"I can know things without remembering them, without remembering how I learned them." That was half his existence. He had skills and knowledge that he had no memory of gaining, and this was just another piece of that knowledge. He didn't remember the fall, didn't remember the fight Steve had described, but that didn't change the knowledge. He was sure of it as he said it. </p><p>"It wasn't your fault, Steve," Bucky said. That's when Steve really did start to cry.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you ever wonder whether commenting makes a difference, this chapter only exists because of comments. After the last chapter, a few people were expressing a desire to see Bucky faced with a crying Steve. I had expected to do a time jump before the next chapter, but here with are, with Bucky facing a crying Steve. </p><p>I haven't given this chapter a proper proof read because it was a last-minute deviation from my plans, so I apologise for any typos.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky sat there, watching as Steve cried, wondering how he was supposed to react to this. He knew it was bad. A handler crying meant that they were upset or in pain, and a handler being upset or hurt meant punishment, meant that Bucky was going to suffer for this. His words had hurt Steve and there would be consequences for that. </p><p>Bucky felt anxiety roiling in his gut as he tried to think of a response, tried to think of a way to make Steve stop crying, to make things right again. </p><p>He couldn't go back on his words. Telling Steve the fall had been his fault wasn't likely to stop him crying, and besides, it would be a lie. He couldn't lie to Steve. So what was the choice? What could he say that would make this alright again? </p><p>"I'm sorry," Bucky said. </p><p>Steve shook his head. He didn't look up at Bucky. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, as though to wipe away the tears, but more tears came right behind those so it was clearly a futile gesture, like Bucky's words had been a futile gesture. But he had to do something because he couldn't just ignore Steve crying. </p><p>A part of him wanted to walk away, to leave this apartment because clearly his presence only hurt Steve, but leaving while a handler was distressed felt wrong. He couldn't leave until Steve stopped crying. This was knowledge, knowledge without memory of learning it, like with his knowledge that the fall hadn't been Steve's fault, but no more helpful. </p><p>"I didn't mean to make you cry," he said. </p><p>"I know," Steve said, voice blubbery through the tears. </p><p>It didn't help. It didn't stop him crying. Bucky wondered if he could ask JARVIS what the protocol was for making someone stop crying, but doing that right in front of Steve felt wrong too. </p><p>He considered the actions he could take, tried to think what might make him feel better if the situations were reversed. He thought back over the previous occasions he'd made Steve upset. Steve hadn't cried before, but he'd been upset when Bucky had told him he hated him, and when he asked Sam for hugs instead of him. Maybe that was the answer. </p><p>Bucky had been told he was allowed to ask for hugs now, that they weren't a reward for good behaviour. If that was the case then he was allowed to ask now and maybe that would help Steve feel better. </p><p>"Can I hug you?" he asked. </p><p>Steve looked at him, surprise written on his face. Steve gave a tremulous nod and Bucky crossed the living room towards him. Steve didn't move, so Bucky slid onto the couch beside him, opening up his arms to wrap them around Steve. It felt strange to be giving a hug like this, instead of waiting to receive one. He pulled Steve into him, and Steve came easily, twisting around in his seat until his face was pressed into Bucky's shoulder. </p><p>Steve's arms wrapped around him right back, squeezing tightly, like he was trying to keep Bucky from falling into a chasm. Steve continued crying, his tears soaking into Bucky's shirt, his whole torso shaking under his arms, but Steve just held him tighter. Some instinct drove Bucky to move, to let his flesh hand rub little circles on Steve's back, while his left stayed in place, holding Steve close. </p><p>The hug dragged on, the warmth of Steve's arms and the torso pressed against his countered by the chill dampness of the seemingly endless flow of tears. Bucky didn't know if he should say something, if he ought to do something differently. He wasn't sure this was helping because Steve didn't seem like he was going to stop crying any time soon, but Steve continued to cling to him, so Bucky made no move to end the hug. </p><p>This felt... allowed in a strange way. He'd had hugs before, he'd asked for them of Steve and Sam, and he'd enjoyed them, but there had always been some part of him, the worried part always looking for the next punishment, that had felt he was getting them in a way he didn't deserve, that there would be some price to be paid later for experiencing pleasure. This hug was different. It wasn't a hug for him, but for Steve. It was something to make Steve feel better, and so it was alright. He didn't have to feel guilty about this. </p><p>He could just hold Steve close and be held in return. </p><p>It wasn't a transaction of bad for good. It wasn't enduring something painful for the later reward. It was simply something that was good for both of them, that they could both gain comfort from. </p><p>In this moment, it wasn't a matter of Bucky going up against an enemy, or weighing his handlers' needs against his own. This wasn't a matter of him versus everyone else. He got something good from this and so did Steve. No one had to lose in the transaction. </p><p>Eventually, Steve did stop crying. He stayed clinging onto Bucky a while longer, face buried in his shoulder. When he did pull back, Bucky was almost sad. This was the longest he'd been held since coming here, even if it hadn't been the normal sort of reward touch, and he found he didn't want it to end. As awkward as he had felt about being the one to hug Steve, about giving comfort instead of receiving it, he found the absence of Steve's presence against his chest cold in contrast. </p><p>Perhaps Steve would want to hug again soon. Much as Bucky had wanted to avoid Steve, he would accept his presence if it meant more of this. </p><p>He wasn't sure what to do now. The hug was over, did that meant this exchange was over? Should he leave? Or would leaving before being told to be considered rude? He tried to imagine what Steve might want from him now, but Steve wasn't saying anything, just staring at the damp-darkened patch of Bucky's shirt. Bucky looked down at the evidence of how much liquid Steve had lost over the course of their hug. </p><p>"Do you want water?" Bucky offered. </p><p>Steve sniffled in a way that made Bucky worried he might start crying again, but he shook his head, smiling damply. </p><p>"I'm alright," he said. "Sorry. That was... So much for me trying to hold myself together around you." </p><p>"Why?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"You've got enough to deal with without having to cope with my issues as well," Steve said. "I've been trying to, you know, put a brave face on things." </p><p>Bucky considered these words and their implications. Steve was trying to appear emotionally stable because he thought it would help Bucky. "Is that why you keep smiling even though it's clear you're not happy?" </p><p>"I hadn't realised I was being so obvious about it." </p><p>"You're not good at lying." </p><p>"Maybe not to you. You always could see right through me. I guess I should have known better than to try and protect you from this." </p><p>Steve had been lying to him to protect him. Looking at his face as he said these words, listening to the casual tone, Bucky didn't think this was a lie. Steve had been smiling all those lying smiles because he thought it would be better for Bucky. He had still lied, but it was a lying in service of Bucky, and that was something he wasn't sure how to deal with. </p><p>"Look, you don't have to stick around if you don't want to," Steve said. "I'm okay now." Which was clearly another lie. "I'm not going to force you to hang around when you don't even like me. I don't want to guilt you into staying. If you have other questions, my door's always open, but you can go if you want." </p><p>Steve had effectively told him to leave four times in about a minute. Under other circumstances, Bucky might have taken that to be a pretty clear indication that Steve wanted him gone, but he didn't think that was the case at all. Even as Bucky stood up to leave, he suspected that he was doing the exact opposite to what Steve wanted. Bucky hesitated. </p><p>Steve had told him not to stay out of guilt, but there was guilt there, a sense that he'd wronged Steve, the knowledge that he'd been responsible for the recent bout of tears. He reached out, cautiously, and rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezing it gently. </p><p>"I'll see you soon, pal," he said, because he knew he ought to say something and those words came into his mind. He let his hand trail behind him, lingering on Steve's shoulder a moment longer, as he headed back to the elevator and his own apartment. He had a lot of thinking to do.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lydia wanted to know all about the memories Bucky had recovered. He wasn't sure what was so exciting about an encounter between two children. She seemed to think this was a major breakthrough and encouraged him to spend more time going through the documents and files Tony had shared with him. </p><p>"Everyone's memories has gaps in it," she said. "Almost everyone. Aside from a few very special cases, we all have things we remember and things we don't, and things we really with more clarity than others. So even if you recover some of your memories, there will still be gaps and that's nothing to worry about." </p><p>"I'm not worried about gaps in my memory." Gaps in his memory were the normal state of affairs. They were about the only thing in this situation that he understood. Given how worried he was in general about everything else, it was nice that there could be something he wasn't worried about. </p><p>"Okay, good. But how do you feel about the possibility of remembering more?" </p><p>"Everyone seems to think it would be good for me to remember." </p><p>"This isn't about what everyone else thinks though." </p><p>"Making other people happy is good." </p><p>"Sometimes, yes, but it depends on the other people and it depends on whether or not what makes other people happy is good for you." When Bucky met that comment with silent confusion, Lydia continued, "Let's imagine a hypothetical scenario. What if I were to hand you a sharp knife and tell you that it would make me happy if you stabbed yourself in the leg. What would you do?" </p><p>"I'd stab myself in the leg," Bucky answered at once. From Lydia's frown, that wasn't the right answer. </p><p>"That would hurt you," she said. "That wouldn't be a good thing to do." </p><p>"I know anatomy. I could stab myself in an area away from major blood vessels and nerves so as not to risk death and to allow for rapid healing to minimise the detriment to my fighting abilities." </p><p>"That's not the point. My point is that hurting yourself is, generally speaking, a bad thing, and hurting yourself because it would make someone else happy is something you should be careful about. It's not a hard and fast rule and there are levels of hurt and help to consider. If you were to get a few bruises doing something that saves another person's life, that would generally be a good thing, even though you got hurt, because of the differences in extremes. Or if I had a sandwich that I quite liked but it was someone else's favourite food in the whole world, I might give it to them because their happiness at getting it would be significantly larger than my sacrifice. The problem is that you haven't been taught to prioritise yourself in a very long time. The only things you've been allowed that give you pleasure were framed as rewards for doing things that other people told you to do. You haven't had a chance to do things just because you want to. All your focus is on what you think will make everyone else happy, not on what will make you happy." </p><p>Bucky considered this. He supposed she was right but he didn't see that it was a problem if he worried about keeping everyone else happy because if everyone else was happy with him, they wouldn't want to hurt him. </p><p>"Let's address this another way. What was the last thing you did that made you smile?" Lydia asked. </p><p>Bucky considered. "I might have smiled when I did the obstacle course but I'm not sure. You could watch the footage from the course to be sure." </p><p>"Okay. The obstacle course. You had fun running it?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"When you leave here today, I want you to start a list of things that make you happy. Things like the obstacle course. When you do something you enjoy, I want you to add it to the list, and I want you to try every day to do some of the things on the list." </p><p>"For what purpose?" </p><p>"To help you learn how to be happy. To help you learn how to put yourself first occasionally. There is a balance between putting yourself first and putting others first. If you put yourself first all the time, that's selfish and can lead to other people getting hurt, but if you put other people first all the time, that's bad too because you'll be the one getting hurt. You have to find the balance between the two and you've been shifted so far to one extreme for so long that you deserve to have some focus on things that are good for you." </p><p>Bucky nodded. It felt strange to him to think about his happiness as a mission priority, but to some extent it was comforting to be given something to aim at. That was one of the problems he'd had since coming here: he hadn't known what do to or what was expected of him. These were at least mission parameters, instructions he could follow, like the schedule Sam had given him. He could try to do things that made him happy. </p><p>"At the moment," Lydia continued, "your list is probably going to be quite short, so it's worth considering how to add to it. I would suggest that you talk to the Avengers and ask them to share with you the things that make them happy, so you can try them and see if they make you happy too." </p><p>Bucky nodded. That didn't sound too bad, because if it involved doing things that made them happy, then he would feel more comfortable about his own happiness. That was easier to rationalise than the idea of doing things just because they made him happy. </p><p>"I also think you should talk to Steve about things that used to make you happy," Lydia said. "This might help you with your memories as well. If you do things that you used to enjoy, it might trigger a connection in your brain and help you to remember doing those things." </p><p>Bucky nodded his agreement, even though he didn't want to go back to Steve again. The last time he'd talked to Steve, he'd made Steve cry and making a Steve cry was never a good sign. He wanted to avoid making this Steve cry if at all possible. Seeing this Steve cry had felt different, somehow worse. He hadn't just been afraid of the hurt that would come to him. Seeing Steve cry felt like something intrinsically wrong, something that shouldn't be allowed to happen.  </p><p>But he had his instructions and he had to follow them. He went back to his apartment and started writing a list on his tablet. The obstacle course was the first thing on his list. Then he wrote 'eating chocolate bars' before hesitating and following it up with 'in moderation'. He added hugs and orgasms and playing the cheating game with Sam. He stared at the list. He tried to think of other activities that could belong on the list. He considered adding training, but general training felt more of a necessity than a thing done for enjoyment. The tests with Bruce and Tony definitely didn't belong on the list. </p><p>He put down 'sparring with Sam'. If it was on the list of activities that made him happy and he was supposed to do things from this list, would that mean he was allowed to spar with Sam again? He would have to ask. </p><p>He struggled to think of anything else to add to the list, but Lydia had warned him it was likely to start short. That meant he had to proceed with the other half of the exercise. He had to talk to the Avengers and Steve about things that might make him happy. He wouldn't be able to put off talking to Steve forever, but he didn't have to start with him. But who should he start with? Sam was the obvious choice, but he was already on the list twice. Perhaps it was better to start with someone else. </p><p>He considered his options. There was someone who had already shared things that he enjoyed with Bucky. </p><p>"JARVIS, is Clint Barton in the building?" </p><p>"He is in his apartment. Should I inform him that you wish to see him?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>There was a pause long enough for Bucky to worry that he'd done something that wasn't allowed in asking for Clint. Sam had told him he could arrange meetings outside of the schedule, but he hadn't explicitly mentioned Clint as one of those people he could arrange to meet with. </p><p>"Mr Barton will come to your apartment," JARVIS said, "because his apartment currently resembles a bomb site." </p><p>Bucky's rising anxiety settled again. He was still anxious about having to meet with someone, and having asked to see him. What if Clint was upset at his activities being interrupted? If his apartment resembled a bomb site, it might mean he was in the middle of critical combat training which Bucky was now interfering with. Or there might be an attack on the Tower which Bucky was hitherto unaware of. If there was a threat to this base, he ought to be defending against it. </p><p>But JARVIS continued, "Apparently I was not expected to inform you of his reasons for choosing to meet in your apartment and a little mess is perfectly normal. Please disregard my previous statement." </p><p>Bucky was left confused which didn't help his anxiety. Clint, when he arrived, didn't look as though he'd been in combat, judging from his attire, which was loose and casual, not showing any signs of recent exertion. </p><p>"The passive aggressive computer said you wanted to see me?" Clint said. </p><p>"I am not programmed to be passive aggressive," JARVIS said from the ceiling. </p><p>"Your comments about my apartment were absolutely passive aggressive. Like anything created by Stark has a right to comment on a little mess." </p><p>"It no longer constitutes a little mess when it conceals eight-four percent of the floor area." </p><p>"See?" Clint said to Bucky. "Passive aggressive, right?" </p><p>Bucky didn't want to be caught in the middle of this argument. He didn't want to have to pick a side because then someone would be upset with him, and he didn't know if it would be worse to upset someone who could physically hurt him or someone who could inform on his every action. He didn't want to answer, but he'd been asked a question. He had to say something and then he would be in trouble. </p><p>Clint went quiet and took a step closer to Bucky. </p><p>"Hey," he said quietly, "what's wrong? Why did you ask to see me?" </p><p>The argumentative tone he'd had when talking to JARVIS was gone. This was a new question. Bucky could answer this one safely and then maybe Clint would forget about the other one. Bucky took a breath and tried to unlock his words. </p><p>"Lydia." </p><p>"Your therapist?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. "She told me to make a list of things that make me happy, and to talk to you about finding things to add to that list." </p><p>"She said to talk to me?" </p><p>"To the Avengers. You are an Avenger, right?" </p><p>"Yeah, I'm an Avenger. So you want things to make you happy. What have you got so far?" </p><p>Bucky showed Clint the list.</p><p>"Eh, moderation's overrated," Clint said as he read. Bucky walked into the kitchen and began opening cupboards, showing the chocolate bars stacked inside. He had limited himself to one a day after his initial binge. Clint followed him into the kitchen and took in the side of the chocolate bars in their neat rows taking up so much space. </p><p>"Point taken. You and moderation should definitely get better acquainted. What's the cheating game?" </p><p>Bucky explained the game Sam had taught him. Clint nodded along to the explanation then looked back at the list. </p><p>"Well, I'm not going to give you orgasms, buddy - I think Steve might explode from jealousy - but I know something else you have to try. Stay here." </p><p>Clint gave the tablet back and left the apartment. He returned a little later with an electronic box which he hooked up to the large television screen before handing Bucky some sort of controller. </p><p>"You're going to love this," Clint told him, turning the box on. </p><p>Bucky hadn't thought that something intended to be fun should cause so much swearing. Clint spent a lot of the time swearing, even calling Bucky a son of a bitch when he launched a blue shell at him and knocked his little kart off the road, but the swearing didn't make Bucky feel unsafe. Normally when someone was swearing around him, it was because something had gone wrong with a mission and he was about to be punished, but Clint just seemed to be swearing at the game, his little, electronic kart, the controller, himself, and only occasionally Bucky. Even when he swore at Bucky for the blue shell, he stayed smiling, so Bucky didn't think he was going to get hurt for it. </p><p>It was a strange challenge, this game. There seemed to be no purpose to it, except perhaps to improve reflexes, for which there were much more practical methods. The cartoonish images were clearly not meant to be taken seriously. It was a thing that existed purely for the sake of fun. </p><p>Bucky didn't do as well at the game as Clint, who had clearly practised this often, but the failure to win in most of their races didn't feel like a failure in the same way that a bad score on the obstacle course would do. There were no consequences of this, he realised. That was what made the difference. He could win or lose and there was nothing at stake. </p><p>When Clint shut off the game, he looked at Bucky and asked, "Is this going on the list?" </p><p>Bucky dutifully added Mario Kart to his list of enjoyable things. He was making progress on the task his therapist had set him. He was succeeding at his mission to become a person. When Clint left him alone in the apartment again, Bucky felt somehow strange and it took him a minute to realise what it was. Only when he began to worry that the strangeness was a sign of a problem that he recognised the feeling for what it had been: the lack of anxiety. </p><p>For a few, short minutes, after playing the game with Clint, he had felt calm.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint must have told the Avengers about his mission to find enjoyable things, because Bucky found new appointments appearing in his schedule. Many involved all of the Avengers coming together for a joint activity in an evening, like board game night, or the bad movie night, or karaoke, but Bucky found his day peppered with one on one appointments. Bruce talked him through how to play pool. Tony introduced him to remote control cars and they set up an obstacle course for the cars around his lab. All it needed was blue shells and it would be as fun as Mario Kart. </p><p>Sam showed him some different card games, including ones he could play by himself, and spent a morning helping him put together a model ship that had arrived along with a pile of other hobby kits. Bucky suspected that Tony had been ordering these things for him but they just arrived, unlabelled, in the elevator. He had many kits for building things, making soap, creating beaded jewellery, making slime, a rock tumbler, a kid's first chemistry kit aimed at seven year olds according to the box, and one a kit could apparently make a volcano. Bucky presumed it wasn't a real volcano, judging by the photo of smiling children on the box. </p><p>He added time to his schedule to work through some of these kits because he didn't want to get in trouble for not doing them when someone had gone to the trouble and expense of ordering them for him. </p><p>Sam arrived one morning looking a little anxious as Bucky let him into the living room. Bucky wondered what Sam could possibly have to be anxious about and that made him anxious too. </p><p>"I've made arrangements for something I think you'll enjoy," Sam said, "but it will involve a stranger touching you, so I'm not sure if that might cause issues. I don't want you to feel obligated so I can cancel if you don't want it. Even if you agree to go ahead with it, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, you can say so and everything will stop." </p><p>"What have you arranged?" Bucky asked, because the longer Sam went without actually explaining, the more it would make Bucky's anxiety sky rocket. </p><p>"I've booked a professional massage therapist to come into the Tower," Sam said. "Do you know what a massage is?" </p><p>"Working sore muscles," Bucky said. He thought one of the Steve's might have done this for him, after particularly strenuous missions, but he wasn't sure. </p><p>"It can be," Sam said. "The treatment I've booked for you is a relaxation massage. It's less about working out the knots in your muscles and more about just making you feel good. It's supposed to be a soothing experience. She's going to bring a massage table and whatever oils and things she needs with her. If you want to try it, she can set up here in your living room, or we can tell her to use one of the rooms off the gym if you'd prefer not to have someone you don't know in your apartment." </p><p>"Here," Bucky said, because he wasn't sure what difference it would make and that appeared to be Sam's first choice. Besides, he knew the layout of this room better and could more easily get his hands on an improvised weapon if something went wrong.</p><p>“Then you want to try it?”</p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"The normal procedure," Sam said, "would be for you to be here in your underwear and for there to be no one else present. But you could keep your clothes on if you prefer." </p><p>"I don't mind doing the normal way," Bucky said. Enough people had seen him naked that it didn't really make a difference to him. </p><p>"Okay. Do you want privacy, so it's just you and the massage therapist? Or would you want me or someone else to stay with you? Normally, you'd have privacy, but I don't mind staying if you think that will make you feel better." </p><p>Bucky's first instinct was to tell him that he was happy doing things the normal way, but the option of having Sam present was tempting. He would always prefer to have Sam present when he was given the choice. He trusted Sam more than he trusted anyone else here, and Sam would know to intervene if something that wasn't allowed occurred. It had been made clear to him that Bucky didn't know what was now acceptable behaviour, especially when it came to touching, so Bucky was at risk of breaking unspoken rules if he was left on his own with a stranger. </p><p>"Stay," Bucky said. </p><p>"Okay. I'll go sort out the final details and be back soon." </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure exactly how long Sam would be or what preparations he ought to make. He wasn't sure how long the massage would last, so he went to the bathroom to avoid any potential issues with that partway through. After a moment's consideration, he stripped down to his underwear and gave himself a cursory wash at the sink. He had showered after his latest run through the obstacle course, so he was clean, but if someone was going to be touching him, it was polite to make sure of that cleanliness. </p><p>"Mr Wilson and guest are requesting entrance," JARVIS announced. </p><p>"Let them in," Bucky said. He walked back to the living room to find Sam walking from the elevator carrying what looked like a long, padded board. His guest was a slender woman dressed in a way that was indicative of a medical professional but in floral tones and with no white coat. She looked to Bucky with a smile but whatever greeting she opened her mouth to say died on her lips and she quickly looked away. </p><p>"Oh," she said. "You're already ready. Most people wear a robe or a towel while I get set up, but it's fine. I appreciate the enthusiasm." Her cheeks were faintly pink and she was talking more to the ceiling than to Bucky. </p><p>"Sorry," Sam said. "I guess I should have mentioned towels." </p><p>He fiddled with the board he was carrying, folding out legs to turn it into a table. The surface of the table was lightly padded and had a strange hole near one end. </p><p>"Mr Wilson has told me you want him to be present for this," the woman said, setting down a bag on the coffee table and getting items out, like towels and small bottles. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky said. </p><p>"That's fine, I just wanted to double check." She pulled out an electronic device. "I'm just going to put on some music to help with the atmosphere." The device was then some sort of music player. She fiddled with it and the music started, slow, mellow tones, clearly intended to relax rather than to inspire him to dance or move. </p><p>Sam finished with the table and Bucky walked over to it. </p><p>"Should I get on?" he asked. </p><p>"Yes, please. Start face down with your head in the hole." </p><p>Bucky followed her instructions, lying on the table. His face was framed neatly by the hole, meaning he had no challenge breathing. He waited for straps, for something to hold him down. He felt his heart begin to race faster, despite Sam's comments about this being something he was intended to enjoy. The similarity to medical procedures was too much and his anxiety began to spike. He couldn't see Sam. He couldn't see what the woman was doing. </p><p>He felt something touch the back of his legs and he jerked, expecting this to be a source of pain, or the restraints, but it was just soft fabric laid across his lower half. </p><p>"Sorry, did that startle you?" the woman said. </p><p>Bucky nodded as much as the face hole would allow. All he could see was a little patch of floor and the legs of the table. He could listen out for her movements but she was being quiet and the music was masking what little noise she made. </p><p>"Bucky?" Sam said quietly, "How are you feeling?" </p><p>"Anxious." </p><p>"What would make you less anxious?" </p><p>The sound of Sam's voice was already helping. Knowing he was present, that he was observing all of this, pushed some of the fear away, but he still didn't like not seeing what was coming, not being able to predict when or how he was going to be touched. </p><p>"I want to see," he said. </p><p>"Could you start with the front massage?" Sam asked. It was only when the woman answered that Bucky realised the question wasn't for him. </p><p>"Yes, of course. Bucky, please turn over." </p><p>He rolled over, nearly dislodging the cloth she'd covered his legs with. The woman took hold of it and resettled the cloth, covering him up to his shoulders. She retrieved a pillow from her bag and had Bucky lift his head so she could slide it underneath. Now Bucky could see that she hadn't brought anything horrible out of her bag. There were no instruments of pain or torture. Unless the contents of those bottles burned him. </p><p>"The point of this is for you to relax," the woman said. "If something I'm doing is making you uncomfortable, please tell me." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He turned his head to look at Sam. </p><p>"I'm going to sit right here," Sam said, taking a seat on the arm of a chair, which meant he was raised a little higher than if he'd been sitting in it properly, and therefore easier to see from the table. "Remember what I said about it being okay to stop. If you've changed your mind and want to call this off, that's fine." </p><p>Except Sam had arranged all this because he thought Bucky would like it. If Bucky refused, all the preparations would go to waste and it was silly to ask to stop before they'd even really started, before he even knew what the experience would be like. </p><p>"I'm okay to continue," he said. </p><p>"Alright then," the woman said. </p><p>She picked up one of the little bottles and poured some of the liquid within onto her hands, rubbing them a bit, before lifting the cloth away from one of Bucky's legs. She began touching him then, with gentle strokes made smoother and easier because of the slick liquid on her hands. It was a pleasant touch, a comfort touch, as Sam had promised. She ran her hands softly over his skin, occasionally pressing a little deeper where his muscles were stiff with tension, easing away some of that tension. </p><p>She moved her hands in a practiced way, used to providing this comfort to people. Bucky alternated between looking at her and looking at Sam, who was watching all this calmly. Sam was clearly content that this was going as it should be, so it was easier for Bucky to simply enjoy the touches for what they were. As time passed and she moved onto his other leg, it became easier to accept that this wasn't going to turn into something horrible and painful, a torment to be endured. It became easier to trust that it was exactly what Sam said it was. </p><p>Bucky felt his muscles start to relax under her ministrations, the constant tension he lived with easing away as she worked fingers through stiff patches of knots. She worked his stomach and chest a little, and then moved to stand behind his head, reaching under him to dig fingers into the back of shoulders in a way that made him groan involuntarily. He only realised how tight all those muscles were as she slid her fingertips into them. </p><p>"Is that alright?" she asked, freezing. Bucky nodded. She began moving again. "Yeah, there's a lot of tension here." </p><p>She worked her fingers into his neck and shoulders as best she could from this angle, then moved on to gently massage his skull and even lightly brushed over his face in a soothing way. He risked closing his eyes as she delicately manipulated the muscles of his forehead, soothing away a faint ache of tension he hadn't even noticed was present. </p><p>He was aware of the tension in his muscles now in a way that he hadn't been before, especially around his left shoulder. Even with the new arm, there was a lot of tension there, and he noticed the knots in his upper back now that the attention had been drawn to them. </p><p>So when the woman asked, "Do you want to try again with being on your front?" Bucky rolled out with barely a hesitation. He wanted her strong fingers to work their way into his shoulders the way they had with his legs. He wanted her to do something about all the stiffness up there, the ache of stress carried for far too long. </p><p>There was a spike in tension that came from not being able to see, but as she started to work on his back, he was able to relax into her touch again, so let her sooth away the stress that the new position inspired. </p><p>He wasn't sure it was possible for her to take all the stress away, and it would certainly be too much to hope that she might do it all at once, but still it felt like he was melted against the table, parts of him that had been solid turning to liquid in a way that relaxed and eased his body, that took away aches he'd had for so long he'd stopped being aware of them. He gave in to the sensation, enjoying the tenderness of touch that was so unfamiliar. She worked his back and shoulders and down his legs, even working a little on the soles of his feet. </p><p>Time seemed to drift away. He wasn't sure how long she spent massaging him, but he wasn't bored. It was like the state of stillness waiting for a strike, only now his body felt good while he was waiting. He wasn't having to distance himself from sensation to ignore aches from staying still too long. He got to be present and aware and enjoying the feel of his own body, all while knowing he didn't have anything to worry about right now. There were no difficult decisions for him to make, no choices that might prove to be the wrong ones, no risks of making Steve cry or upsetting Sam. All he had to do was lie here and accept this. </p><p>It was freeing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In my head, Tony told JARVIS to order Bucky one of everything that was in the "hobby kit" category on a website and didn't pick the purchases himself. JARVIS tried to verify the items, "Sir, are you sure Sergeant Barnes would want to learn to make flower crowns or have a glitter sparkle nail art kit?" and the idea made Tony giggle so he told JARVIS to go ahead and get all of them, and so Bucky ended up with everything under the sun, regardless of age appropriateness or target audience.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I changed my mind slightly about the nail art kit, but I like this one better.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Massages were added to Bucky's schedule as a weekly occurrence. They were just discussing when to add the massages to his schedule when JARVIS announced that Steve was requesting access to the apartment. </p><p>"Let him in," Bucky said. </p><p>The elevator doors opened and Steve made it all of two steps into the apartment before he tripped on his own feet and nearly dropping the flat package he held. He caught himself but looked away from Bucky, staring up at the ceiling, face flushing bright red. Sam burst out laughing. </p><p>"Is this a bad time?" Steve asked. </p><p>"No. We're finished," Bucky told him. </p><p>"We were just introducing Bucky to massages," Sam said. Then to the massage therapist, "Come on, I'll show you out. We'll leave you two to it." </p><p>He helped carry the massage table into the elevator, leaving Bucky and Steve alone in the apartment. Steve still wasn't looking at Bucky and it took Bucky a moment to guess as to the reason. </p><p>"Do you want me to put clothes on?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Please!" </p><p>Bucky went to the bedroom to find the clothes he'd removed earlier. His skin was still covered in oil from the massage and he wondered if he ought to go and clean it off rather than getting it on his clothes, but he didn't want to leave Steve waiting long, so he decided to just dress and worry about the oil later. It didn't take him long to cover up his body again and when he returned to the living room, Steve was willing to look at him again, though his cheeks still seemed pinker than usual. </p><p>"Is this better?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Yes. Thank you." Then after a moment, he added. "Sorry. I just wasn't expecting to walk into... that." </p><p>"Sam said it's normal for people to get massages in their underwear." </p><p>"I'll have to take his word for it, I can't say I've ever had a professional massage." </p><p>"It's very pleasant." </p><p>"I guess I should consider getting one then. You enjoyed it?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"I'm glad." </p><p>They stood awkwardly for a minute but then Steve seemed to remember that he was carrying something and had come here for a reason. He held the package out towards Bucky. </p><p>"I finished these. I may have gone a little overboard." </p><p>Bucky carefully peeled away the folded edges of paper around the package to reveal two framed pieces of artwork. The first was a watercolour painting of a woman in a grey dress, her brown hair neatly curled under a smart hat, with pearls around her neck and a gentile smile on her face. The other piece was a collection of ink sketches of the same woman. She stood at a stove with an apron on, stirring something in a pot. She had a small girl perched on one hip and her curls more disshevelled, a tired expression on her face. She sat with a child on her lap, reading from a book. There was one drawing of her with her arms folded and a stern expression on her face that made Bucky think of commanders demanding an explanation for while a mission hadn't gone to plan. </p><p>"The watercolour is her in her Sunday best. She always dressed up smartly for church and made sure we looked our best too. She gave me my first tie, one of yours actually, because if I was going to sit with your family in church I needed to look respectable. She was also very clear about not getting into fights or getting our Sunday clothes dirty before church. I thought it would be nice to do a picture of her as she was when she took time to focus on her appearance. The rest of the time, she had other priorities, running around looking after the family, baking for neighbours, helping out around the neighbourhood. She always seemed to be doing a million things at once." </p><p>Bucky's eyes fell on the second picture, the one made up of all the other pictures. He wanted the pictures to spark some memory. He wanted to know something more about this person because of looking at these images. But he didn't really feel anything for her, any more than he would have felt something for a photo of a target in a mission briefing. She was just a face. Even images of her living a life that had once included him didn't make a connection. </p><p>"Is that Rebecca?" Bucky asked, indicating the child in one of the drawings. </p><p>"Yeah, that's Becca, your little sister. Do you remember her?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. "She was mentioned in the book Tony gave me." </p><p>"What's the book?" </p><p>"Becoming Captain America." </p><p>Steve gave a little shrug. "From what I've seen, that's one of the better ones. I read a few biographies of me after I woke up from the ice, to see what people thought of me. That one at least admitted when it wandered into speculation. Some of the others made wild guesses or outright lies and presented them as fact." </p><p>"The ice?" Bucky asked. He wasn't sure what Steve was talking about, but he remember the cryo chamber, the feeling of waking up so cold it felt like he'd never be warm. A chill so deep it was like his bones were made of ice. </p><p>"After my plane crash," Steve said, looking at Bucky as though he expected that to mean something. Bucky just looked at him blankly. "You do know what happened to me, right?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. Steve swore under his breath and Bucky winced, worried that he'd made a mistake, worried he'd be in trouble for not knowing something that Steve clearly thought was fundamental. </p><p>"Okay. Have you got to the end of the book yet?" Steve asked. </p><p>"No. I've reach the chapter on Dr Erskine's research." </p><p>"Okay, well, when you get there, the end of the book is a pretty decent summary of what happened. There was a HYDRA plane full of bombs that were going to detonate on a bunch of American cities, including New York. It would have been an absolutely disaster and killed millions, so I took control of the plane and forced it to crash into the Arctic, where it wouldn't do any harm. Somehow, because Erskine's serum, I was able to survive and my body was frozen in the ice without aging. I woke up seventy years later. We think it was a sort of natural version of what happened to you in the cryostasis tube. That's how I ended up here, seventy years in the future. How did you think I was here?" </p><p>"I thought you were lying," Bucky said. "I thought if there was an original Steve, someone all the others were pretending to be to manipulate me, you were too young to be him and so you had to be pretending too." </p><p>From the look on Bucky's face, he might as well have punched Steve in the stomach. He looked shaken to the core by Bucky's words. He looked genuinely hurt at the idea that Bucky might have thought he was just pretending, and that more than anything, more than recounting the story of the encounter with the bullies, was what convinced Bucky that this time he wasn't lying. This Steve had known him long ago, in the time before HYDRA. He was the original Steve, someone Bucky had been so loyal to that HYDRA had spent decades afterwards trying to capture that loyalty and attach it to their fakes. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Bucky said. </p><p>That made Steve drew a sharp intake of breath. </p><p>"Do you believe me now?" Steve said. "That we were friends? That we knew each other before?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. He wasn't sure what it was that had convinced him. This moment, the look on Steve's face, was just the final piece of a proof that had been building for a while. There were the words on Sam and Tony, the fact that Steve had known how they met, and these pictures of the mother who was still just a vague concept in his mind. </p><p>"If there's anything else you need for me to convince you," Steve continued. </p><p>"No. I believe you. We met when we were children and you punched me in the face. We grew up as friends. We went to the war. I went first and you got recruited by Erskine. We... we fought together?" He was less certain about that point. He hadn't got that far in the book, but it felt right as he said it, and he was aware of the familiarity of fighting with Steve in the helicarrier, a rhythm to his movements that he'd been able to anticipate in a way that went beyond his years of training and experience. </p><p>"That's right," Steve said. "I was given a special unit, the Howling Commandos, and I was given some freedom to pick who I wanted on it. I picked you. And some other guys who had been prisoners at Azzano and who were a crucial part of us getting out of there. But it was you I really wanted on my team." </p><p>Bucky had a vague image in his mind of a smokey bar, music playing in the background. Steve sat there in his army uniform, his new Captain bars shiny on his collar. </p><p>"Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" </p><p>"Hell no." </p><p>Bucky frowned at the memory. "I said no." </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"I think I remember. It was a bar." </p><p>"A British pub, but yeah." </p><p>"You asked if I wanted to follow you and I said no?" It came out more as a question than a statement. He wasn't sure if he was remembering this correctly. He wasn't sure what it meant if he'd said no but had fought with Steve anyway. Had Steve forced him? Had Steve captured him and forced him into compliance? Had someone else given him the order to follow Steve? </p><p>But Steve was smiling. </p><p>"I asked if you wanted to follow Captain America. That's what you said no to. It wasn't that you were following a supersoldier or the hero of Azzano or any of that. You said you'd follow the skinny guy from Brooklyn." Steve smiled as he spoke, a real smile, eyes focused on something distant only he was seeing. "You went back to the war to follow me for who I was inside, not the trappings of heroics and ridiculous uniform and the powers the serum gave me." </p><p>Bucky relaxed a little to hear that. It was better if Steve hadn't forced him. </p><p>He wondered exactly why he had followed Steve though. Steve talked about friendship, but Bucky was all too aware of how the other Steves had manipulated him, about the rewards they had offered for good behaviour. Steve might not have forced him, but Bucky might have had another reason to be in the fight with him. Bucky felt he had a better grasp of relationships between people now, especially thanks to the movies Sam and Clint had been introducing him to. It helped put some of Sam's earlier points about consent into a new context. </p><p>"Were we lovers?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"No, Buck. It was nothing like that. You were my best pal and I'd have done just about anything for you, and you looked out for me and took care of me when I needed it, but... but it wasn't like that." Steve looked away at the end. If Bucky hadn't become accustomed to Steve's mannerisms, he might have mistaken it for a sign of lying, but that wasn't how Steve looked when he was lying. Still, there was something behind his words in a way Bucky wasn't sure he was skilled enough at people to interpret. So he just nodded. He would think about the question some more, or perhaps ask Sam. </p><p>It was clear the subject made Steve uncomfortable, and he'd made it clear that he had no intention of touching Bucky in that way whatever Clint might think about the subject. So Bucky changed the subject. </p><p>"I should find something to hang these up," he said, indicating the pictures. "There's probably something in here." </p><p>He went to the large closet off the living room which had probably been intended for storage of coats and shoes, given the placement of hooks and the small storage cubes at ground level, but it was now stacked floor to ceiling with the various hobby kits he had received. More of them were stored in the closet of the bedroom he wasn't using in this apartment. </p><p>"Where did all of these come from?" Steve asked, laughing. </p><p>"I suspect Tony." </p><p>"Yeah, that would make sense. Quantity over quality seems to be his approach for gift giving. I take it this is part of your mission to learn how to have fun?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. He hadn't talked directly to Steve about it, but he must have picked up on it because he'd been involved in the group activities. Bucky would have to talk to Steve at some point about the other half of his homework from Lydia, about trying things that Bucky had used to find fun in the time he didn't remember, before HYDRA. </p><p>But for now, he focused on the task in front of him, lifting out boxes from the front piles to try and uncover the box he was aiming for. He handed various kits to Steve, hoping that he was remembering correctly and that this was the closet he ought to be searching through. </p><p>"I would have loved some of these when we were kids," Steve said. Bucky glanced away from his search and saw that Steve was studying the box on decorating plates. </p><p>"If you want to try one of them," Bucky offered, "we could do it together." </p><p>"I'd like that," Steve said. Bucky handed him another pile of boxes and he amended, "I might like some of them. Tony really didn't check who these would be suitable for, did he? This one's aimed at three year olds." He was looking at a puffy sticker making kit. "Maybe he was expecting you to go through them and send back the ones you didn't want." </p><p>"He didn't give any instructions that he expected that," Bucky said, wondering if he'd made a mistake. Sam hadn't warned him. If Bucky had done something he wasn't supposed to, he would have hoped that Sam would warn him. </p><p>"It's also possible he just didn't put much thought into it. This is Tony, after all. Unless maybe he just wanted to laugh at you using the Glitter Tattoo Stickers kit." </p><p>"Why would that be funny?" Bucky asked. He found a lot of what Tony found funny relied on knowledge he didn't have. </p><p>"Because..." Steve started but then had to stop and think about it. "Because it's something that's aimed at young girls and if a man, particularly a strong man with combat skills who looks, well, like you, does something that's aimed at young girls, it's unexpected. A lot of humour comes out of people doing things that other people would normally expect someone like them to do." </p><p>"Would it make Tony happy if I used the glitter tattoo stickers kit?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Probably, but you shouldn't do it just to make him happy. If you want to try it because it would make you happy, that's fine, but you shouldn't do it just because you think it might make someone else happy." </p><p>"Lydia said something similar." </p><p>"She sounds like a smart lady." </p><p>Bucky returned to his search, finding the box he was hunting for and then working that box out from its place without toppling those stacked on top of it. It was a carpentry kit, this one proclaiming it was for those aged ten and over. Bucky took it over to the table and opened it up, finding, as he'd hoped, that it included slim nails and a light hammer. Each of the frames that contained a picture had a small hook on the back, so it would be a simple matter to hammer the nails into the wall at an angle for those hooks to hang from. He surveyed the walls, deciding on the best position, before deciding to place them on either side of the large TV screen. </p><p>"There's a tape measure here," Steve said, "if you want to get the heights to match." </p><p>Bucky had fixed one of the nails and was trying to get the position of the other to match by eye, but Steve was correct that the tape measure was a better plan. Steve helped, holding one end of the tape as Bucky measured the height from the floor and the distance from the television. It was easier to do so with a second person present, and soon they had both pictures hanging from the wall. </p><p>Something nagged at Bucky, something he was supposed to do. It took him a few moments to remember what it was. </p><p>"Thank you," he said. </p><p>"You're welcome, Buck." </p><p>Bucky knew he was supposed to be doing fun things with Steve, so when Steve moved towards the elevator, he called out, "Do you want to try the glitter tattoo kit with me?" </p><p>Steve looked genuinely delighted, and Bucky's heart raced a little at the sight of his smile, a real smile. </p><p>"I'd love to."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A short while later, Steve had his shield symbol sparkling from the middle of his forehead, but Bucky had a butterfly on his right cheek and a series of flowers up his flesh arm. Steve had laughed at his own reflection, calling himself ridiculous when he saw how the shield symbol looked, but he still smiled about it. Bucky felt... strange. </p><p>The glitter tattoos were obvious. They were unusual, especially for someone who looked like he did. He might not know much about human social interaction, but he was trained at blending in, at avoiding notice when required for a mission. If he went out in public with these marks on him, they would draw attention. They weren't suitable for an assassin. Wearing a pink and purple butterfly on his cheek in material designed to catch the light was the opposite of what he felt he ought to be doing. </p><p>But there was a secret thrill to it as well, a pleasure in doing something that wasn't acceptable for an asset. It was another step towards becoming a person, towards successfully completing his current mission. He knew that HYDRA would have never allowed this behaviour, not even as a reward, and that made him smile. </p><p>He considered how to add this activity to his list of things that made him happy. It would have been simple to just put <i>glitter tattoo kit</i> on the list and be done with it, but his happiness wasn't that simple. In the end, what he wrote was <i>Doing things not allowed by HYDRA.</i> </p><p>"Is that your list?" Steve asked. </p><p>Bucky nodded. He held out his tablet so that Steve could see it. The list had grown since he'd been assigned this work, with contributions from the other Avengers giving him new additions, but the original items remained. Steve's cheeks went slightly pink again, as they had when he'd been confronted with Bucky's nearly naked form. Bucky wondered if that was caused by reading the entry for <i>orgasms</i>. </p><p>"I've had success with doing most of the activities on the list with members of the Avengers," he said. </p><p>"Most," Steve repeated. He still looked flustered. "I hope you're still remembering all the stuff Sam said about consent?" </p><p>"I haven't endeavoured to attain orgasms from any of them," Bucky said, "because both Sam and Lydia say I'm not ready for that yet." He didn't quite understand why doing pleasurable things like massages would be alright but not being given orgasms but he expected that the fact he didn't understand the difference was proof that Sam was right and he wasn't ready. </p><p>"You can still..." Steve's cheeks went even pinker. "You can do things like that by yourself. You know that, right?" </p><p>Lydia had mentioned it as an option but hadn't discussed it in much detail. It was another of those ideas that Bucky found strange. To him, orgasms were given by one person to another as a reward. Even though Lydia said that sex shouldn't be used as a reward, it still felt wrong to even consider performing sexual acts by himself. He had attempted it, in the spirit of attempting to fulfil Lydia's order and do things he found enjoyable, but he hadn't been able to shut off the anxious part of his mind that was convinced he was going to get in trouble for this. The act of touching his penis with the aim of giving himself pleasure from it had felt so alarmingly forbidden that his body had failed to respond to the pleasure of the touch. </p><p>He had found pleasure in the forbidden nature of the glitter decorations, or in enjoying a hot shower, but there was apparently a difference in scale. Doing some things that were previously not allowed counted as pleasurable enough to go on the list of enjoyable activities, but if he went too far, the pleasure vanished and all that was left was a crippling anxiety that had left his penis limp and his body too full of adrenaline for him to get restful sleep that night. </p><p>"It doesn't work by myself," Bucky said, rather than sum up his failed attempt. </p><p>"Doesn't work? You mean you couldn't... finish?" </p><p>"I could barely start." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>Steve continued to look awkward and uncomfortable. Bucky wasn't sure what Steve was uncomfortable about, but he could make a guess, given their previous conversations on this topic. </p><p>"Don't worry," Bucky said. "I don't expect you to give me orgasms. I know you don't want to touch me like that." </p><p>"What? I mean... It's not that... Erm... Well..." Steve seemed to have lost all ability to form a coherent sentence. </p><p>"You told me that you're never going to touch me like that," Bucky said. "I can accept that." Especially since he was beginning to understand better about normal interactions between people and about not having a handler. He still had hope that he could convince Sam or one of the others to give him orgasms, but he suspected that he had to prove himself in some way he didn't understand yet. He could survive until then. A little ache in his balls was something he could handle; he had endured far worse. </p><p>"I meant I wasn't going to take advantage of you," Steve said. "All that stuff we said about consent... You weren't in a position to properly consent because you thought you had to obey my orders, because you didn't understand what was really going on. The people who used you before, who used sex as a reward, they basically raped you. If I did the same, I'd be no better than them." </p><p>Those words struck at Bucky because, at the time, he'd genuinely believed that Steve was no better, that he was just another of those people. He'd expected Steve to be like them. But Steve wouldn't. He hadn't had sex with Bucky because it was apparently wrong in some way that Bucky didn't comprehend yet. He had tried to help Bucky, tried to make him a person again, and had backed off when Bucky told him he hated him. Steve wasn't like the other Steves, he knew that now. Did that mean that touching would be different now too? </p><p>"I understand consent better now," Bucky said. He might not understand it completely, but 'better' wasn't a lie. "I know I'm allowed to say no. But if I'm allowed to say no, doesn't that also mean I'm allowed to say yes? And if I say yes, then isn't that consent? Doesn't that mean you wouldn't be taking advantage of me?" </p><p>Steve stood. Bucky fought the urge to flinch or expect a blow. Steve paced a few steps away, but he didn't leave, he just turned and paced back, walking to burn off energy or frustration. </p><p>"Bucky, you... you were straight. All the time I knew you, you were interested in girls. You took them dancing, you went on dates, you flirted. I know you kissed some of them and if you did anything else, you were too much of a gentleman to gossip about it. In all the time I knew you, I never once saw you look at a guy, not that way. Now... sex and pleasure and comfort and relationships, it's all messed up in your head because you've had years of being used and abused and lied to and manipulated." </p><p>"You think I don't really want sex with you," Bucky said. "You think I'm just confused." </p><p>Steve winced a little at his words. </p><p>"I don't want to do something now that you'll regret later, once you've had more time to process everything." </p><p>Bucky thought about what Steve was saying, and about the gaps between the words. </p><p>"You're talking about what I want, what I'll regret," he said. "You ain't said anything about what you want." </p><p>"That's not important." </p><p>"Course it's important. That's what Sam said about consent: both parties have to want it for it to be good. If you tell me you don't want it, I drop the subject. I thought you didn't. But now you're talking all about how I might not really want what I think I want because of HYDRA messing with my head. But what about you, Steve? What do you want?" </p><p>"I want you to be happy," Steve said. </p><p>Bucky stared at Steve in silence for almost a full minute. </p><p>"I should send you to talk to Lydia," Bucky said. "She gave me a five minute lecture last session about how I shouldn't just think about what would make everyone else happy and I should care about my own wants too." </p><p>"I'm happy just to have you back, to know that you're safe." </p><p>Steve was lying again. A part of Bucky was ready to just accept it, to say nothing, to treat this the way he would any other handler trying to manipulate him. Except they'd established that Steve wasn't a handler and he wasn't like the other Steves. He lied to him, but his previous lies had been about trying to shield Bucky, trying to make him feel better about a difficult transition by hiding the fact that it was difficult for Steve too. Was he lying to protect Bucky now? What was he trying to protect him from? </p><p>He remembered what Clint had said, his speculation about Steve's jealousy. </p><p>"I've done various fun things with Clint," Bucky said. "Perhaps he'd be interested in having sex as another fun activity." </p><p>Steve froze in his anxious pacing. His expression tightened. </p><p>"I don't think that's a good idea, Buck. Not right now. You're still figuring out what you like." </p><p>That wasn't an honest response either. Steve didn't want Bucky having sex with Clint. He suspected if he mentioned the possibility of Sam or one of the others, he expected he would see the same reaction. It was a different reaction from the way Steve had looked at the suggestion of having sex with him. </p><p>Steve wanted to have sex with Bucky, but he thought Bucky only want to have sex with him because of HYDRA. Because the person he used to be had only been interested in girls. </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure what he could do about this. He knew that attempting to have orgasms on his own wasn't going to work out, and Steve was refusing to have sex with him, but he couldn't go and ask one of the others if it caused this reaction in Steve, especially since Sam also thought it was a bad idea. He didn't want to be denied orgasms for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure what other options were available to him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They went to movie night with the Avengers still decorated with the glitter tattoos. As Bucky had hoped, Tony was very happy. He burst out laughing as soon as the two of them walked in. </p><p>"Oh my god, Cap, it's like you've got a glittery target on your forehead! And you," he turned to Bucky. "Butterflies and flowers. Who'd have thought it? Are you going to put your hair in pigtails next?" </p><p>"Don't tease him," Bruce said, with a tone of voice sharper than Bucky had ever heard from him. It was so unexpected that he wanted to recoil away from it, but it wasn't aimed at him. When Bruce turned to Bucky, he was smiling gently, the way he normally did. "You look like you have fun with those." </p><p>"Yes. It was fun." He glanced at Steve and saw the bright grin those words caused. There was no lie to that expression. Steve was happy to have had fun with him. </p><p>"I'm going to get a drink," Steve said. "Do you want anything?" </p><p>Bucky was tempted to say that it wasn't Steve's place to provide food and drink for him any more, but he didn't think this was Steve trying to be a handler. Faced with the prospect of a complication choice, especially since he didn't know what options were available, Bucky nearly panicked. In the end he managed to say, "Whatever you're having." </p><p>"Sure thing." </p><p>Steve wandered away towards the kitchen area. </p><p>Sam came over to where Bucky was standing while Bruce grabbed Tony by the arm and nearly towed him away to give them some semblance of privacy. </p><p>"Are you okay with spending time with Steve?" Sam asked. </p><p>Bucky nodded. "The tattoo stickers were fun. He gave me pictures of my mom." </p><p>"Oh. That's... That was very thoughtful of him." </p><p>Bucky nodded again, because Steve had put a lot of thought into them. </p><p>"I know Steve will be happy to spend time with you, but you need to take care of your own emotional needs," Sam said. "If it's difficult for you to be with him, you can tell him." </p><p>"I know," Bucky said. Then, because he thought Sam would want to know about it, he added, "Lydia has been talking to me about not worrying about making other people happy all the time." </p><p>Steve returned, bearing cans of soda. Bucky took one, watching Steve open his before he attempted to do the same. He hadn't expanded his selection of drinks much in his grocery purchases. He had purchased juice on the grounds that it was an easy source of vitamins, and he had milk, but mostly he'd been drinking water. He wasn't quite prepared for the burst of fizz and sweetness. It was nice. It would probably be sickly in large quantities, like the chocolate, but he could expand his grocery selection the next time he placed an order. </p><p>When they went over to the couches to watch the movie, Bucky considered his possible options. He could sit next to Steve, but he had been sitting next to Steve for some time making the glitter tattoos. He considered Steve's reaction to the discussion of sex, to the jealousy he had shown, as Clint had suggested he might. </p><p>Bucky walked over to the couches and sat down beside Clint, closer than he needed to be given the size of the furniture. Clint's only reaction was to reach for a bowl of popcorn and offer Bucky some. Bucky resisted the temptation to shoot Steve a challenging look. </p><p>As the movie played, Bucky watched Steve's reflection any time the screen was dark enough to show it, and Steve appeared to be staring at Bucky more than at the screen. Bucky pretended obliviousness to this, sitting and keeping his eyes on the screen, his flesh arm pressed up against Clint's as they sat close. It wasn't a comfort touch, not as such, especially since Bucky couldn't relax, aware of Steve's attention on him. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this, why he wanted to do this thing that he knew Steve wasn't happy about. </p><p>He didn't really want to have sex with Clint, except that doing so might let him have an orgasm, which was always a good thing. He didn't want to upset Steve, not really. He remembered how it had felt when he'd made Steve cry and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. So why was he doing this? </p><p>Things were so much easier when he just had to follow orders. Now he had to decide to do things, and apparently he was deciding to do things for reasons even he didn't understand. He wished his mind came with an instruction manual he could read so that he could figure out his motivations. </p><p>He wasn't paying enough attention to the movie, so much so that he was almost surprised when it came to an end. He was almost glad to escape. He stood up, almost happy to no longer feel the warmth of Clint's arm against his. He retreated to his apartment, not wanting to give anyone a chance to talk to him because he wasn't sure he was capable of forming words right now. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He hadn't even really enjoyed Clint's arm against his, and he should have done. The soft touch of a skin against his should have been pleasant and relaxing, but he'd felt almost as tense as when he'd first laid down on the massage table, unable to see what was coming. </p><p>He went into his bathroom and readied himself for bed, taking time to clean all the oil off his skin. He stood under the hot spray and realised that the moisture on his face wasn't just from the shower. He was crying. His whole body was shaking from it. </p><p>Why the hell was he crying? What was he even crying about? </p><p>He slid down the tiled wall of the shower until he was sitting there under the spray, arms wrapped around his legs, crying uncontrollably. </p><p>The water rained down around him as he sat there, water pouring at of him at a rate that felt just as fast. For a while, it felt like the crying would never stop, that he would end up a withered husk in the puddled water at the bottom of the shower. But after a time, the sobs slowed and stopped, and he was left feeling simply ridiculous. He still didn't understand why that had happened. Nothing particularly bad had happened to him today, and there had been no particular action or event that had triggered the tears. They had just come and not gone away. </p><p>He finished his shower and dressed in sleep clothes as he would on another night and wondered what he should do now. Was this bout of uncontrollable crying a sign that something was wrong? He made up his mind to ask Bruce about it when he went for the usual set of testing tomorrow, and he would ask Lydia about it at their next therapy session. He didn't see the need to disturb either of them this late given that the crying had now stopped. </p><p>He lay on his bed for some time, wondering about this reaction, trying to recall previous times he had cried. As the Asset, he couldn't think of an occasion. The Asset wasn't supposed to show emotion, wasn't supposed to react to pain. Any instances of crying would have resulted in punishment and if they had happened, they were either infrequent or distant enough to have been removed by the repeated wipes of his memory. That was probably for the best. </p><p>But there was the ghost of a memory, somewhere just beyond the point of recollection, a wavering thought that seemed to vanish the more he tried to concentrate on it. He had been crying, crying so much that he hadn't been sure he'd ever stop. He had been cold, huddled somewhere that had given him shelter from the wind and cover so that he couldn't be seen, because secrecy was important. It had been vital that no one see him cry. </p><p>Was this a memory of the Asset or of the old Bucky Barnes? He wasn't sure. It being a memory of the Asset might have made more sense, given the punishments such an emotional outburst would have caused, but something made him doubt that. </p><p>He lay there for some time, failing to recall any further details that would allow him to place this fragment of memory into context. Eventually he slipped into sleep, no more enlightened. </p><p>---</p><p>When he went to Bruce's lab, he explained about the previous day's incidence of crying and his lack of explanation for it. </p><p>"Is this the only time this has happened?" Bruce asked. He was readying equipment to take a blood sample. He still took regular samples from Bucky, but they had established a pattern of the samples being taken weekly, and it was only two days since the last one. Presumably this was for more tests related to this emotional outburst. </p><p>"Yes," Bucky said. He presented his flesh arm for Bruce to extract his sample. He sat and watched as Bruce placed the sample into one of his many machines. </p><p>"In terms of your emotional state," Bruce said, "you're better off talking to your therapist about that, but I can look at the situation biochemically." He touched a few controls and a display projected up from one of the machines showing a chart of lines in various colours. As well as the multiples lines of bright colour, there was a rectangular area shaded in grey, stretching across the chart. "These are your levels for various hormones," Bruce explained, "plotted against the average for someone of your age, build, and other biological characteristics. Zero would be the average, and then the line is above of below that based on percentage differences from the standard range. These lines are based on your measurements from the blood tests and the scanner, plotted over time." </p><p>Bucky tried to follow that, and was confident in his understanding that lines within the grey rectangle were good and the lines that went above or below it were abnormal. A lot of his lines were outside of that band, at least to begin with. They were coming closer to the normal range towards the right hand side of the chart. </p><p>"This isn't a perfect system of analysis," Bruce said, "because we're only capturing a point in time and a lot of these will vary significantly through the day. For example, these ones here are related to hunger, and they'll vary depending on whether you're about to have a meal or if you've just had one. But you can still see the trend." </p><p>"They're getting more normal." </p><p>"Exactly. HYDRA had you on a whole cocktail of drugs that had your hormones all over the place and that will have an effect on your emotions. Now your hormones are adjusting back to something closer to normal, and that's going to effect your emotions too. I suspect your crying fit is related to that. You were running extremely high on adrenaline." Bruce indicated a red line that started off a little above the normal band. </p><p>"That doesn't seem exceptionally high," he said. </p><p>"That's because, as I said, these things vary. You might expect a normal person's adrenaline to get that high if they've just had a fright, or if they're doing something aggressive like a sparring match. It's normal for adrenaline to reach these levels in short bursts. You were essentially living at maximum adrenaline all of the time. Now you're adapting and it's coming down, but you're still in a very stressed state, and people often cry when they're stressed." </p><p>"I didn't cry as the Asset," Bucky said. This situation in the Tower was stressful, especially since he didn't know what to do most of the time, but his previous existence had been stressful too. If he was crying now because of it, surely he would have cried then too? </p><p>"You knew it wouldn't have been allowed, right?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"I think on some level you're accepting the change, allowing yourself to really feel things you couldn't before. Look, talk to your therapist about the feelings side of things. I don't think you need to worry about one crying spell. If it happens again, we can revisit this. I can fit you with something to track your hormones throughout the day so we can get a clearer picture. In the meantime, try to do more things on your list." </p><p>Bucky nodded again. </p><p>The session hadn't been nearly so helpful as he would have liked, but it was good to know that Bruce wasn't really worried. Bucky would try not to worry either then. </p><p>It was only as he made his way back to his apartment after the rest of the scans that he realised he hadn't talked about the memory, but he supposed it didn't matter. Bruce wasn't likely to know what it might mean. </p><p>Bucky sat down to read more of the Captain America book. He'd reached a chapter on Peggy Carter. As he read, he didn't need to look up photos to see an image of her in his mind. Dark haired and pretty, fierce and determined, more suited to a military uniform than a dress, though she was stunning in either. A classy dame. </p><p><i>"I wouldn't want to presume with a classy dame like her, but, you know, just in case."</i> </p><p>That was something Steve had said about her. He'd been smiling awkwardly, looking at little uncomfortable as he'd said it. </p><p>As he'd explained why he wasn't going to be sharing a room with Bucky. </p><p>The pieces of the memory slipped into place. He wasn't sure exactly where it had been, possibly France, but they were holed up in an old farmhouse that had been abandoned, waiting to rendezvous with... with someone. Agent Carter had joined them and they would all be there for a couple of days. They'd wanted to take the opportunity to use the farmhouse's real beds in real shelter, but the number of them and the number of beds hadn't added up so some of them would have to share. Bucky had assumed he would share with Steve but Steve... Steve had pulled rank as captain to get a room to himself. Because Peggy was there. </p><p>Peggy would have a bed of her own, of course, but Steve had felt it would be less pressure on her if he invited her into his space instead of tried to invade his, and of course he couldn't have a roommate sharing his bed if she were to say yes. </p><p>Bucky had agreed to the practicalities of it and wished Steve luck. The exact words of the rest of the conversation were lost to time, but it was only afterwards that Bucky had gone outside and found his shelter behind the barn and let himself cry. He hadn't wanted Steve to see him cry even as he'd felt his heart was breaking, even as he'd known he would lose Steve to Peggy. He'd known he wouldn't be able to pretend at being together forever. </p><p>Bucky found himself crying again, but it wasn't the uncontrollable sobs of before. It was just a few drops of moisture slipping free with the ghost of the sadness he'd felt then. </p><p>He had wanted to be with Steve and he'd been crying because he knew it was impossible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lydia spent a long time discussion his crying fit. Half of their next session was devoted to dissecting it, trying to understand the root cause and whether there was anything that should be fixed. There was a challenge to their discussion though: Bucky didn't want to reveal that he'd been in love with Steve. It felt wrong to say so to this woman when he hadn't told anyone else, not even Steve. His previous self had clearly cared enormously about hiding the depth of his feelings for Steve so there must have been a good reason for that. Besides, if he was going to tell anyone, Steve ought to be the first person to know. </p><p>So he went against the instruction to tell Lydia everything that was relevant. He wasn't even entirely sure that the memory was relevant, since he had had the crying fit before he had really remembered the incident at the farmhouse. It was possible that his efforts to make Steve jealous by sitting with Clint, or just the earlier conversation with Steve about sex, had stirred up the emotions associated with the memory before the memory itself, but it was also possible that that causal relationship was reversed. It was possible that he had remembered the incident at the farmhouse because of the crying fit. </p><p>So he left out that memory and talked about Bruce's comments about hormones instead. If the causal relationship was that crying had caused the memory then, despite all the words expended on it, Bucky was left no closer to understanding why he had had such a strong, emotional reaction to nothing in particular. She suggested that this might be a good thing, that he might be feeling relaxed enough now, safe enough now, to let his guard down and process some of the trauma he'd been through. </p><p>Bucky wasn't sure how uncontrollably crying could be considered an emotional breakthrough, but he nodded when she called it that. </p><p>The rest of the session was spent talking about his mission to be more happy and his attempts to expand his list. It was somewhat inevitable that he would end up discussing sex, or his lack thereof. With a little prompting, he explained his challenges with achieving orgasm on his own. </p><p>"I don't think you should try having sex with anyone else until you're capable of doing things on your own," she said. "Consent is a difficult subject sometimes, but it would be difficult to consent to something fully if you're doing it out of desperation. It would also be too easy for a partner to hold release over you, to manipulate you with it. I don't want to suggest that any of your friends would consider doing anything like that, but it's something to be wary of given your history." </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"You said when you tried by yourself, you struggled to get hard?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"The physical sensations were pleasurable but... but I was scared." </p><p>"What were you scared of?" </p><p>"Punishment." He was always scared of punishment. </p><p>"No one will punish you for masturbating." </p><p>"I know that, but... I was still afraid. It felt like something bad, something not allowed, something I would be in trouble for." </p><p>"Some patterns linger. You get used to reacting a certain way to a certain stimulus and it's hard to train yourself out of that pattern. You were used to associating a lot of things with punishment and you can't just tell your subconscious that things are alright now. So even though you know you're safe, you still feel unsafe." </p><p>Bucky nodded again. </p><p>"Would it help if I told you to masturbate?" Lydia asked. "If I gave you that instruction, would it help with the feeling of it not being allowed?"</p><p>"Perhaps," Bucky said. It was also possible he would still struggle to attain release only now he would have a double source of stress because he would also feel anxious about not being able to complete the task he'd been set. </p><p>"Perhaps it would help if you get permission from someone else, someone who you instinctively see as a person in authority over you. If Steve or Sam told you that you were allowed, would that make you feel better about it?" </p><p>"I don't know." Steve had said that he was allowed to do things on his own, but Bucky hadn't tried against since that conversation. He wasn't sure if he would need someone to be present, telling him it was okay as he tried, and he wasn't sure if that would violate the boundaries of consent. Steve had said he wasn't going to touch him. Would being in the room with him and saying that everything was allowed be any different? </p><p>Did Steve need to be present? He suspected that Steve even being in the same room would be difficult consent territory, especially since Steve had barely been able to look at him when he'd been in his underwear for the massage. He didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable or to guilt him into doing something he wasn't fully consenting to. </p><p>He felt uncomfortable even approaching Steve to ask about this, especially in light of the revelation he'd had about his past self's feelings. The old Bucky Barnes had been in love with Steve but hadn't believed anything would come of it. Trying to use Steve to gain sexual relief felt almost like a betrayal of who he used to be, of those feelings that he'd kept hidden. </p><p>He would talk to Sam, he decided. They would try to devise a way for him to get the permission he needed without violating consent. Lydia ended their session with an instruction to try and work on this area. She didn't order him to go and masturbate, which should hopefully keep the guilt and panic at bay if he found he couldn't do anything, but there was implicit permission in her instruction. </p><p>He returned to his apartment and decided to try on his own first, in the hope that he wouldn't need to involve Sam at all. He'd been told that he should work on this. He'd been told this was allowed. That ought to be enough. </p><p>He went into his bedroom and efficiently stripped off his clothes before lying down on the bed. A soft bed was a place of comfort, associated with a job well down, with reward and pleasure. But he hadn't earned this bed. It had been given to him without it being tied to good behaviour, so he knew that association was false. He pushed the thought away and tried to calm his rising heartbeat. </p><p>"I'm allowed to do this," he said aloud, the words echoing hollowly in his ears. </p><p>He reached his flesh hand for the soft flesh of his penis, using gentle touches to try and stir it into life. His balls ached with the need for release and his penis hardened in response to his fingers teasing it with slow and careful strokes. His breath quickened, and not just from anxiety. </p><p>But he couldn't forget that this was his hand. It was his fingers wrapped around his shaft, and that felt wrong. It filled him with a sickening sense of fear that he was going to get caught, get in trouble, get punished. His whole body tensed, expecting a blow or a blast of electricity, expecting some source of pain. </p><p>"I'm allowed to do this," he told himself, but it was already too late. His rising erection had sunk back down to a limp and pitiful worm beneath his legs, worthless and pointless. His body was coated with a faint sheen of fear sweat and he curled into himself as though to shield his more sensitive areas from a blow that wasn't going to come. </p><p>He wasn't sure how long he lay like that, curled on his bed in a foetal position, naked and alone. Some unknown number of minutes later, he had stopped shaking and he was acutely aware of how silly it was for him to be lying like this. As the Asset, he would never have been allowed to get away with such a display of weakness. He didn't want to show such weakness as a person either. </p><p>At least this time there was a definite cause behind his emotional reaction. </p><p>He climbed from the bed and went to shower away the sweat of fear. When he was clean and dressed again, he asked JARVIS to arrange a time for him to meet with Sam, when it would be convenient for Sam. Much as he wanted to sort this problem out, he knew that it wasn't of high importance. Still, he was glad when Sam replied saying that he could meet Bucky that afternoon. Bucky filled the time in between with lunch preparations and with reading more of the Captain America book, which was dealing with the other members of the Howling Commandos. There were sections of the narrative which seemed vaguely familiar, but nothing yet had caused a strong memory or emotional reaction. </p><p>Sam arrived as promised, asking polite questions about how Bucky was doing. Bucky decided to get straight to the point. </p><p>"I'm having difficulty achieving orgasm." </p><p>"Oh." Sam took a few moments before he responded properly. "I'm sorry to hear that." </p><p>"I'm hoping you will be able to help me." </p><p>Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, Bucky, I'm not sure that would be a very good idea. We've talked about consent before and this is a sensitive area." </p><p>"I'm not proposing that you have sex with me," Bucky said. </p><p>"Oh. Okay, well, good. Not that you're not an attractive man but... well, it would be awkward." </p><p>"Lydia believes it would be best for me to practice achieving orgasm by myself before I attempt to do anything with another person." </p><p>Sam nodded his agreement with this assessment. </p><p>"However," Bucky continued, "I have an extreme anxiety response whenever I make an attempt by myself. I'm used to orgasms being granted to me by another person when I've earned them as a reward. I'm not used to just having them whenever I want. Attempting to give myself an orgasm hasn't been successful so far." </p><p>Sam blinked at him. "You mean you haven't had an orgasm in all the time you've been here? Not once?" </p><p>"No. I've made an attempt twice and both times... I had an extreme emotional reaction. I felt like I was doing something that wasn't allowed and it prevented me for getting any pleasure or seeing the activity through to completion." </p><p>"Okay. That... that sucks." </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"But I take it you have a plan? That's why you asked to speak to me?" </p><p>"Yes. I think it might be more successful if you would tell me that I'm allowed." </p><p>"Of course you're allowed to masturbate, but I take it you don't just mean me saying it like that?" </p><p>"I considered asking you to be present, to talk me through the experience," Bucky said, "but I wasn't sure whether that would conflict with your feelings on consent. It may be necessary, but there might be another way." </p><p>"What other way?" </p><p>"We could record statements of you telling me that I'm allowed to self-pleasure. Then, while I'm alone, JARVIS could play those recordings. I could have your voice telling me that what I'm doing is acceptable behaviour without you having to be present for the act." </p><p>"That... That seems like a sensible compromise. Will it work though? If you know that they're recordings, I mean." </p><p>"I don't know." </p><p>"Worth a shot anyway," Sam agreed. "JARVIS, is the plan acceptable to you?" </p><p>"It is acceptable to me," JARVIS replied. "Might I suggest requesting a monitoring device from Dr Banner to track your vitals. I can use that to identify signs of distress and play the recordings accordingly." </p><p>"Good idea," Sam said. They made the arrangements with Bruce without explaining the full details of why they needed the monitoring device. Bruce didn't ask questions about why they wanted it and Bucky was glad not to have to explain his problems to yet another person. Sam recorded a number of statements, many of which were very similar but with slight differences to the wording or tone. His reasoning was that if just the same permission statement was repeated multiple times, Bucky might tune it out or the artificial nature of the recording might interfere with his plan. Hopefully having many variants on the theme would make it more successful. </p><p>They were all making a number of guesses here. </p><p>Bucky thanked Sam for his help, grateful for his efforts regardless of whether this would prove successful. He hoped that having spent a considerable portion of this afternoon with Sam working towards him achieving his goal would make it easier to shut down his panic when he tried again. He returned to his bedroom alone and began the process of stripping off again, excited and nervous about what he was about to attempt. He was worried that it might not work, while extremely excited to try it anyway, just in case he succeeded this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You're allowed to do this," Sam's voice emerged from the ceiling, slow and reassuring, as Bucky reached for his cock. Bucky closed his eyes, smiling slightly, trying to let himself soak in the knowledge that Sam wanted this for him. This wasn't simply allowed - it was encouraged. </p><p>He ran his hand gently up and down in slow strokes, feeling his flesh respond, eager for the release. </p><p>His heart began to beat faster in his chest and before he could even identify whether it was because of arousal or fear, Sam's voice enveloped him again, "You deserve to be happy." </p><p>He tightened his grip slightly, feeling the pressure, the delicious stimulation. It didn't matter that this was his own hand. What mattered was that he was allowed, that he had permission for this. There was not going to be any trouble. No punishment. Simply pleasure. </p><p>He didn't dare slow down, didn't dare stop to draw this process out, lest he start to second-guess himself and let the fear in. He kept that fear out with the fast strokes of his hand, the frantic rhythm that brought him nearer and near to the moment of release, the promise of joy and satisfaction. </p><p>"You're safe here," Sam's voice assured him. </p><p>The absurdity of that statement struck him, the ridiculousness of someone like him ever being safe anywhere, and he almost started laughing, his body riding along on a euphoric wave. </p><p>"You're allowed sexual relief." </p><p>His cock jerked in his hand, shooting out spurts of cum. He arched off the bed with the force of it, barely containing the gasps of pleasure his body instinctively tried for. He collapsed back a moment later, spent, breathing hard and as tired as if he had done a rigorous workout. </p><p>The ache which had been so constant he'd been able to largely ignore it was gone, replaced with a satisfaction, a lack of need that was strangely disconcerting. It was like the massage, like the way he hadn't realised how much his muscles had been aching until someone worked to remove those aches. He hadn't realised how desperately his body had wanted this release until it was achieved. </p><p>He opened his eyes and looked at the mess he'd made of himself, the sticky globs of white that clung to his torso and dribbled down onto the bed covers. The sight sent a spike of panic through him, a certainty of wrongdoing no logic could resist. He had rewarded himself. That wasn't allowed. </p><p>He would be punished. </p><p>They would know. </p><p>They would hurt him. </p><p>There would be punishment. Of course there would be punishment. There was always punishment. He had been foolish to believe he could get away with this. Someone would come and hurt him and it would all be his fault. </p><p>Sam's voice rang around the room, telling him he was safe and that he was allowed to masturbate, but he knew they were just recordings. It didn't count as real permission. He wasn't going to escape the pain of punishment with a loophole like that. </p><p>When the door to his bedroom opened, he felt almost vindicated. Sam had come to punish him. Sam was going to put the world in its rightful order again and put the asset back in its place. He would know once again that he couldn't get away with going against protocol. </p><p>"Bucky, please look at me," Sam said. Bucky had to turn his head, to look at Sam, because disobeying an order from a handler was unthinkable, but he didn't make eye contact. He kept his gaze respectfully lowered, fixed on Sam's chin. </p><p>"Do you know where you are?" Sam asked. </p><p>"Yes, sir." </p><p>"You're safe. You're in the Avengers Tower. No one's going to hurt you." </p><p>Once again, he almost started laughing, but he didn't. Laughing at a handler would just cause more trouble. </p><p>"Bucky, you're safe." Sam's hand touched his flesh arm gently. "You were doing something I told you was alright. You're not in trouble. You're not in trouble." </p><p>It was different, hearing those words from Sam directly instead of from the recording. </p><p>"I want you to breathe slowly with me. Breathe in: one, two, three. Now out: one, two, three. In: one, two, three." </p><p>Sam counted slowly and steadily, speaking in that soft, gentle tone, and Bucky fought to obey the order, his breathing slowing down and with it, his heartbeat. The panic that had risen to overwhelm him slowly slipped away and he was left feeling somewhat silly. He had reacted with fear to doing something he had been explicitly told was permitted for him to do, panicking to such an extent that JARVIS had been forced to call Sam here in person to deal with him. </p><p>"Sorry," Bucky said. </p><p>"You don't have to apologise." </p><p>"I'm alright now. You don't have to stay here." </p><p>"Is that your way of saying you want me to leave? Because I can go if that's what you want, but I don't mind staying either, if <i>that's</i> what you want." </p><p>Bucky didn't want Sam to leave. It was easier to believe the reassurance that he wasn't in trouble if Sam was right here with him, but he was also aware of his current situation, of his nakedness and the sticky cum slowly drying on his stomach. </p><p>"I should get cleaned up and dressed," Bucky said. It wasn't really an answer to Sam's question and Sam must have noticed that too. </p><p>"Tell you what," Sam said, "why don't I go to the kitchen and make us both something to drink while you get dressed? That way, I'll be right outside if you need anything. You can join me when you're ready." </p><p>Bucky nodded. That was a good compromise. Sam patted him gently on the arm before letting himself out of the bedroom. Bucky waited until the door closed behind him before he moved, climbing from the bed and going through to the bathroom. He didn't shower, even though a part of him wanted to be rid of the stink of fear sweat, because it would be rude to leave Sam waiting, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be alone that long in case the fear began to take over again. So he used the cloth to wipe away the mess and then returned to his bedroom to dress in fresh clothes. </p><p>The whole procedure took only minutes, and Sam was only just pouring the hot water into mugs. Bucky recognised the box beside the mugs, the blue packaging proclaiming the contents to be calming blend green tea. Bucky hadn't ordered the tea in his grocery shopping but it had appeared one day. He wasn't sure if it was a gift from Tony, who was definitely responsible for the lavender bath salts, or from Bruce. Bucky had drink half the packet already. </p><p>He took the mug and wrapped his flesh hand around its surface, letting the heat seep into his fingers. It was like a comfort touch from a cup. </p><p>"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Sam asked as they sat down at the kitchen table. </p><p>"It worked," Bucky said. </p><p>"I noticed." There was a touch of humour on Sam's face. </p><p>"It felt good, for a minute or two, but then... I got afraid." </p><p>"What were you afraid of?" </p><p>"Punishment." He was always afraid of punishment. </p><p>"When JARVIS called me, he said that the recordings weren't pulling you out of the panic attack?" </p><p>Bucky shook his head. "I knew they were recordings. They felt real enough before, but not after. I don't know why." </p><p>"The mind's a funny thing sometimes." </p><p>Presumably that was Sam's way of saying that he didn't know either. </p><p>"The experiment was successful at least," Bucky said. "I can go some time without release, so it shouldn't be an issue again for some weeks." </p><p>"Weeks?" Sam looked horrified at the very idea. </p><p>Bucky nodded. Perhaps by then he would be less scared of punishment. The fact that he hadn't been punished even once since coming here was making it easier to accept that the punishment wouldn't be coming. The fact that he understood why Steve had been lying to him, made it easier to believe he wasn't lying about this. </p><p>"It can't be healthy to go that long," Sam said. </p><p>"I can endure more than normal humans can." </p><p>"Yeah, but you shouldn't have." </p><p>Those words caused a strange echo in Bucky's mind, a whisper of other words, not quite the same but similar enough for some worn out connection in his mind to spark and try to bridge the gap. </p><p><i>The thing is, you don't have to,</i> the words in his mind said, in his own voice. He had no context for them, no sense of when he'd said them or to who, but he knew it had been something like this, some sentiment about enduring more than was needed. </p><p>"Bucky?" Sam asked. "Are you alright?" </p><p>"I had a memory." </p><p>"A good memory?" </p><p>Bucky considered. It didn't feel like a good memory. There was sadness there, pain mixed in with those words, but also something that might have been joy. No, joy was too strong a word for it. Relief. He'd been relieved, though he wasn't sure about what. </p><p>"I'm missing too many pieces," Bucky said. Sam nodded. </p><p>"It's okay. Some things will come back to you and some won't. It's probably best not to worry too much about it and just let it happen." </p><p>That was similar to what Bruce had told him. Bucky's brain was trying to rebuild connections that had been fried to death by Hydra. He could encourage the process by reading books about Steve's history, but there was no way to control the process for sure. </p><p>After a while, Sam spoke again. "You said that the audio clips helped? At least beforehand? Would it help if next time I was somewhere nearby, so you could get reassurance that you're not going to be punished? If I was closer, perhaps you wouldn't have spiralled into a panic attack." </p><p>"Perhaps," Bucky said. He wasn't sure he could predict how his mind would react, what would make him afraid more than usual. </p><p>"Maybe we should give it a few days," Sam said, "and then you can try again with me waiting out here. JARVIS could tell me when you're done and I could talk to you through the door without it being a recording." </p><p>"That might help." He'd known that the recordings hadn't been real, but a real voice from somewhere nearby might have been more effective. He remembered how it had helped him to stay calm to see Sam while he'd had the massage. But he wasn't sure how much was too much to ask. Sam had offered this, but after all the discussions about consent, he didn't want to push things beyond what Sam was comfortable with. It was possible Sam was offering to help him in this way because Bucky was just too useless to manage on his own. </p><p>"Do you consent to waiting while I masturbate?" Bucky asked. </p><p>Sam gave a small laugh at that. "It's not something I want to get in the habit of, but I don't mind doing it a bit if that's what you need to learn that you're not going to be punished for taking care of your needs." </p><p>"Thank you." </p><p>"You're welcome. But you might want to consider talking to Steve about this. It might be a bit of an awkward conversation but I'm sure he'd be willing to help once you explain the situation." </p><p>Bucky shook his head violently. "I can't." </p><p>"Why not?" </p><p>"The whole subject makes Steve uncomfortable," Bucky said, "and he said he wouldn't do anything sexual with me." That was a true answer, but not a complete answer. Bucky could have stopped talking there and still have answered Sam's question honestly. He considered saying more, giving the full answer, but his reasoning with Lydia returned to him and he fell silent. It wasn't right to tell Sam that Bucky had been in love with Steve when even Steve didn't know. </p><p>But the fact he'd been tempted to speak couldn't be ignored. The fact that it had been relevant to a conversation with Lydia and he hadn't discussed it when perhaps he should have down was potentially misbehaviour. This subject would come up again, especially if he were trying to get Sam's help with this. </p><p>Which meant he needed to clear the obstacle out of the way. He needed to tell Steve the truth about how the old Bucky Barnes had felt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A few people have noted in the comments that my updates aren't coming as quickly as they previously have been. There are a few things occupying my time outside of fanfic, including work, my original writing, family stuff. Updates will happen when they happen. </p><p>One of the things that's keeping me busy is a personal project that has absolutely nothing to do with fanfic, but I'm hoping a few of you will be willing to help me out with part of it. If you identify as a woman, I would appreciate it if you could take a minute or two to respond to a quick survey on <a href="https://forms.office.com/Pages/ResponsePage.aspx?id=M3FwwXzVVEKwtlNGRxEAo5JqB0J5_LxKnS3DdD82N2tURFJHRExaT0pPMDNYMTZLSzU2TTM1TVAwNy4u">sexual attraction.</a> The survey is only 4 questions long and completely anonymous. It's for an overly long and detailed response to something published by a pickup artist and since he didn't have any data to back up a specific assertion, I'm trying to gather my own.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was someone new in the common room when Bucky went to join the others for their regular group dinner. He noticed her the second her walked into the room, and not just because of the vivid red of her hair and the fact she was wearing a dress clearly designed to make her noticed. She was dangerous. </p><p>He didn't know how he knew that. </p><p>She was slender, wearing a figure-hugging dress that seemed to leave nowhere to conceal a weapon and a pair of heels that couldn't be convenient to fight in, but still he was left with the distinct impression that she was armed and someone to be extremely cautious of. At that moment, she was sat on a couch beside Clint, laughing at something he'd said, a perfect picture of relaxation. He wanted to shoot her in the back of the head rather than risk walking up to her. </p><p>Bucky was sure he hadn't made any sound since he stepped out of the elevator but she still turned to look at him, eyes assessing despite the cheerful smile. She stood with careful grace and Bucky tried to work out what weapons she might be carrying. A knife strapped to her thigh, perhaps, slim enough not to leave an outline against the dress. The chain of her necklace might be stronger than it looked, to serve as a garotte, or she might have gone the other way, making it snap easily so it couldn't be used as such against her. Razor wire sewn into the hem of her clothing, perhaps? </p><p>The spiked heels on her shoes could be weapons on their own with enough force behind them and Bucky wished for proper combat boots. He wished for a weapon, but he wasn't allowed those. One of the conditions of the deal that let him be here with the Avengers instead of in Federal custody was the lack of weapons. He only had his strength and would have to make use of that to overpower her when she attacked. </p><p>But she didn't attack. </p><p>"Hi," she said, walking up to him calmly, far too calmly. She extended a hand. "I'm Natasha Romanov." </p><p>He looked at the hand. It was obvious what she wanted him to do with it, but her palm was empty and there was no sign of jewellery that might be trigger to inject a poison or shock him with electricity. </p><p>"Bucky Barnes," he said. He didn't take her hand. He would rather be punished for being rude than to fall into such an obvious trap and his handlers had never cared much about rudeness. </p><p>"Are you really?" she asked, lowering her hand. </p><p>That question surprised him. He was the same person as Bucky Barnes, everyone here agreed on that, and he had memories of Steve from before, memories only Bucky Barnes could have. But could he trust his own memories? His head was so muddled that there was no way to know for sure what it all meant, what was real and what was fake. </p><p>"What are you talking about?" Steve asked, walking over with a beer in hand. "Of course he's Bucky." </p><p>He sounded so sure of that it made Bucky relax a tiny amount. He couldn't relax completely, certainly not in front of this woman, but it helped to have some surety beside him. The fact that Steve was here helped with Natasha's presence because Bucky had been told by Steve and Sam and the others that Steve would protect him. He would intervene if this woman attacked. </p><p>"I hear Clint's been getting you into trouble," Natasha said. </p><p>"No?" He tried to work out what she was talking about, but no one had punished him. No one had disciplined him for anything he'd done, never mind anything Clint had done. </p><p>"We stepped outside on the roof for five minutes," Clint said. "That's hardly an escape attempt." </p><p>So that was what she meant, their little trip outside to see Clint's favourite place. </p><p>"I didn't get in trouble," Bucky said, "but Steve was upset." </p><p>"A lot more people than Steve were upset," Natasha said. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Steve give a quick shake of his head, his eyes fixed on Natasha with a glare, but Bucky wasn't going to take his eyes off Natasha long enough to look properly. </p><p>"Come, let's sit," Natasha said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the couches. She obviously intended for him to walk in front of her. He wasn't that foolish. </p><p>"Ladies first," he said, bringing a smile up from somewhere deep inside, like stepping into a role for a mission. </p><p>She gave a little laugh, like she knew exactly what was going on in his head, and turned around, walking back to the couches with her back towards him. She didn't even glance over her shoulder. Was she really that good that she didn't mind turning her back on the Winter Soldier? There were the glass windows. Perhaps she was watching his reflection, but she managed not to be obvious about it and it was still bright enough out that the reflection might miss critical details. </p><p>They sat around the couches and ate Chinese take out together, and Bucky made sure to keep Natasha always in his sight. He watched her hands whenever she reached for the food containers and was careful not to eat anything she had touched or move her hands over. This meant he didn't eat as much as he would like, but he knew he had food back in his apartment. It was better to be safe. He just wished he could tell Steve and Sam not to eat either without being too obvious about it. </p><p>He tried to keep his movements subtle so that when she stood up to get a drink he wasn't obviously staring, but could see keep her in his periphery. This was ruined when she walked behind him to get back to her seat and he was forced to twist round so that he didn't loose her from his sight for even a moment. The angle and positions of furniture to block line of sight meant that he didn't want to trust reflections so he made sure his gaze was clear. </p><p>"Bucky, relax," Steve said. "Nat's a friend." </p><p>"Why are you freaking out about her?" Tony asked. "You didn't care about me being behind you. Is she really so much scarier than me?" </p><p>Clint burst out laughing at that comment. </p><p>Sam just looked at Bucky seriously and said, "No one here is going to hurt you, especially not Nat." </p><p>Bucky was more reassured when Nat clarified this by adding, "Not unless you try to hurt me first." </p><p>It was better to know the parameters of her danger. She wasn't denying that she was a threat, but merely setting out boundaries of that threat. He could respect that. Assuming she was being honest. Her entire outfit was one of deception, hiding the threat she posed, so it was possible that this was another lie. He wasn't sure he would be able to tell until he found himself on the receiving end of an attack. </p><p>"Bucky's not going to try and hurt you," Steve told Nat, before turning to Bucky and asking, "Right, Bucky?" </p><p>Bucky wasn't going to promise peace against someone like this woman, but he was willing to compromise. "Not unless she tries to hurt me first." </p><p>Nat smiled and nodded, apparently perfectly happy with this response. Bucky still kept his eyes on her for the rest of the meal, not letting himself be distracted by discussions of TV shows or the obstacle course, even when Clint tried to engage him in discussions of his progress. He hadn't been allowed to run the obstacle course at its most difficult levels yet and practice had balanced out against the increased challenge caused by obstacles he wasn't allowed to touch and moving elements, meaning he hadn't increased his score since his early runs. He would need the bonuses provided by taking out drones to increase his score. Perhaps he could persuade Tony to allow him to try those levels since there were no issues with the arm. </p><p>But not right now, because that would involve taking his attention away from Nat. </p><p>When the food was gone, Nat gave an excuse about needing sleep and left. Bucky was glad, because if she'd stayed, there would be a challenge in leaving the room without turning his back. </p><p>He felt some of the tension diminish now that she was gone, but he wasn't entirely free from concern. He would have to check the elevator when he left in case she was concealed within. </p><p>He left soon after Nat did, and Steve hurried to come with him. If Steve noticed him checking the corners and ceiling of the elevator for any tampering, he let it slide, but he still came with Bucky to his floor. He waited until they were back in the apartment before he raised the subject. </p><p>"Why did you react like that to Nat?" he asked. </p><p>"She's dangerous." </p><p>"What makes you think that?" </p><p>Bucky frowned. He wasn't sure what had tipped him off. She had done an excellent job at playing harmless so a lesser operative might easily have missed it, but something about her put him on edge. Her poise, her expression, her way of moving, all screamed at him at some instinctual level. He shook his head. </p><p>"I don't know how I know. She's dangerous." </p><p>"Only to the bad guys." Steve hesitated before saying, "You have encountered her before." </p><p>"I don't remember." </p><p>"She was with me the first time I saw you after the ice. You attacked us in the street, me, Sam, and Nat." </p><p>Bucky shook his head again. "The encounter must have been wiped." </p><p>"Perhaps some part of the memory was left behind and that's why you're so worried about her." </p><p>"I didn't have the same response to Sam." </p><p>"It wasn't just that encounter for her. She told me that she'd gone up against you before and you'd shot someone through her that she was supposed to be protecting. You might remember her a bit from that." </p><p>"Perhaps." He knew now that the wipes didn't get everything. The scattered fragments that came back to him were proof that some memories remained, so perhaps Steve was right that his feelings of unease around Nat came from those pieces of lost memory. </p><p>"She's here as a friend, Buck. You'll probably like her if you get to know her. Try to give her a chance. Please?" </p><p>Bucky nodded. </p><p>"Okay. Well, I guess I should leave you to... whatever. Good night, Buck." </p><p>Steve started towards the elevator, but Bucky hadn't forgotten the resolution he'd made. Waiting wouldn't make the conversation any easier. </p><p>"Wait." </p><p>Steve waited. </p><p>And waited. </p><p>"Is there something you need, Buck?" he asked after Bucky stood there for approximately two minutes in silence. </p><p>"I remembered something that you deserve to know." </p><p>Steve was frowning now, face full of concern. He took a few steps forward, closing the distance but not quite touching. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me." </p><p>"Before Hydra," Bucky said, "the old Bucky Barnes... I remember... I remember being in love with you." </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"I was jealous. About Peggy Carter. I was jealous that she got to be with you. I wanted to be with you." </p><p>"You..." Steve let out a breath, gaping at Bucky like he'd said something incomprehensible, like he'd slipped into speaking a foreign language. "You never said anything." </p><p>"He... I... I was scared, I think. The memories are confusing. It's difficult to be sure." </p><p>Steve seemed suddenly to relax, like a shaking foundation was solid again. "I think maybe you've got it the other way round. Peggy was an attractive dame, and a real fine woman. I think maybe you liked her and was jealous of her and me." </p><p>"No!" Bucky snapped the word louder than he'd intended, but his head was enough of a muddled mess without Steve trying to tell him he was wrong about the things he knew. He knew this, as surely as he knew that Natasha was dangerous. </p><p>"I was in love with you," Bucky insisted. </p><p>"I..." Steve stared at him, wide-eyed. "No. You were my best friend. You... you looked out for me. You cared about me. I mean, yeah, you probably loved me but it doesn't mean it was like that. Buck... Bucky this is all complicated and you've had decades not being allowed to connect with your emotions or interact with people on a human level. It's understandable that you'd be confused but..." </p><p>"Stop telling me I'm confused!" Bucky yelled. </p><p>He had spent so long not trusting his own mind, knowing that his memories were fragmented, knowing that the people in charge of him lied to him or kept secret things he wasn't supposed to know. His entire existence was one of uncertainty, of lies and deceptions, of calculating risks based on insufficient information, but this he knew. </p><p>Saying it out loud had felt right in a way that went to his bones. He'd been in love with Steve. That was a fact, as certain as gravity. It was a piece of knowledge that could be burned into his mind like the mechanisms of a gun, like the right way to move when in combat, a truth that was fixed even if he didn't remember the moments that had led to the knowledge being recorded in his mind. Some memories were vague, uncertain things, but some knowledge he retained through the wipes. With every moment, he was more certain of this truth. </p><p>And he burned with fury that Steve was trying to deny the truth of this reality.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The moment I think a lot of people have been waiting for. Bucky and Nat will get to have a private conversation in the next chapter, I promise</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky was in the gym, beating the hell out of a punchbag. He had been at it for some time and had gained an additional point for the destruction scores but putting his metal fist through one of the bags. It was possible he would destroy the current bag too, though he was making sure to put in his full strength only with his right arm, which had the advantage for leaving his hand aching and sore. It made it easier not to think about Steve when he was aware of physical discomfort. </p><p>"Excuse me," JARVIS said. </p><p>Bucky grunted to acknowledge that he had heard, but he didn't have the breath to answer properly. Even with with his strength and stamina, pounding a punching bag at full force for two hours, with only a pause to swag bags when the first was damaged, was enough to test his limits. He slowed down slightly but didn't stop punching. </p><p>"Agent Romanov wants to know if she can join you." </p><p>Bucky stopped punching. Every muscle in his body was tense in a heartbeat and he felt the weight of his tactical mistake. He was tired. After the duration and effort level of his training, he wouldn't be able to fight at the height of his ability and he was sure he would need to if he were to fight her. </p><p>"Why?" Bucky asked. It wasn't a refusal. It was a delaying tactic. The longer it took before she came here, the longer he would have to recover. With his enhancements, he might be able to put up a good fight. He walked to the water cooler and downed the first cupful as JARVIS answered. </p><p>"She wishes to speak to you and believes that you will be more comfortable in a neutral area than if she were to visit your apartment." </p><p>"Why does she want to talk to me?" Bucky downed another cup of water. At least the arm Tony had given him should be capable of fighting, given his tests with the punch bags and the obstacle course. It didn't get tired the way flesh and blood did. </p><p>"She says that she wants to talk to you about your experiences since coming to the Tower and your adjustment to the changes in your life. She also says that she won't attempt to hurt you unless you attempt to hurt her first. I should also note that if either of you were to hurt the other, I could inform Captain Rogers, Mr Stark, and the other Avengers to intercede, and I am equipped with internal security systems which I might deploy at a last resort to prevent you from killing each other." </p><p>That last point was more reassuring than the promise of calling Steve or the others, especially since Steve hadn't seemed to believe that Natasha was dangerous. </p><p>"Okay," Bucky said. </p><p>He drank one last cup of water and then moved to a clear space near the entrance, where he could see Natasha arrive and be able to react as needed. She entered about a minute later. She had clearly been waiting nearby, ready for this answer. </p><p>"Hello, Bucky," Natasha said. She kept her distance, hands visible. She was wearing pants today, tight-fitting but made of some stretchy fabric so she could move if needed. Again, he couldn't see where she could possibly be hiding weapons but he was sure she was armed. </p><p>"What do you want?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"To talk without an audience. I have some idea of what you're going through. I was trained by the Red Room. Do you know what that means?" </p><p>The revelation did nothing to ease his tension. He remained ready to fight. "Training for extremely skilled assassins and spies." </p><p>"They trained me from a very young age, manipulated my mind. They moulded me into a weapon and made me think I didn't have any choice except to do whatever they told me. They made me a killing machine instead of a person." </p><p>There was something very familiar in what she was saying and Bucky was sure that was the point. She was telling him that she had been through something like what he had been through. </p><p>"Are you a person now?" he asked. </p><p>"Yes." She sounded very confident in that answer. "Are you?" </p><p>"I'm trying to be." </p><p>Nat nodded, as though this answer was no just understandable but expected. </p><p>"It gets easier with time," she said. "Clint told me about your project to do things that make you happy; that's a really good start. Figuring out who you want to be as a person takes time, but finding out what you like is a good step on that journey." </p><p>"What do you like?" </p><p>She flashed him a smile that he could almost believe was genuine. "Clog dancing." </p><p>Bucky frowned at that answer. He wasn't entirely sure what clog dancing was, but the little he knew made it seem like something very odd for this person to like. </p><p>Nat must have seen his confusion because she continued, "I was taught ballet as part of my training. Grace, poise, flexibility, strength, the ability to have perfect control of my body at all times. Ballet is elegant and seen as sophisticated high art, and you're supposed to move lightly, to float across the stage as if you were made of air and make it all seem effortless. I was taught to be silent, to walk through a room without anyone noticing I was there, and ballet was part of it. Clog dancing is noisy. You have these wooden shoes on and each step is percussion. You stomp your feet down and the whole point is to make noise." </p><p>Bucky found himself smiling, remembering the glitter tattoos, the way it had felt to do something that Hydra would never have allowed and not to be punished for it, the thrill of excitement he'd felt at decorating himself with sparkles and bright colours. </p><p>"I understand," he told her. </p><p>"I thought you would. I haven't told anyone else here." </p><p>Which meant there would be no corroboration if he asked any of the others about it. If she hadn't told anyone else here, it meant that they would never have seen her enjoying this thing. It might not be true. Perhaps she thought that by offering him this story, it would make a connection with him. Perhaps someone had told her about the glitter tattoos and she had invented this story as a way of engaging with him. </p><p>But even if that were the case, it would mean that she understood him well enough to have worked out what had been going on inside his head. That was worrying. The inside of his head had always been the place his handlers couldn't see. They could still control it, wiping away the parts of him they didn't like, but he'd had secret thoughts, hidden away where they couldn't be used against him. Now, between Bruce's machines and this woman, Bucky felt even that was being stripped from him. </p><p>"I understand why you'd be wary of me," Nat said. "I understand why you'd be wary of everyone. When Clint first brought me to SHIELD, I thought it was a trick, I kept waiting for him to show his true colours, to reveal his plans to use me or hurt me. It took a very long time before I was ready to trust anyone even the smallest amount, and even now the list of people I trust is very, very short." </p><p>Bucky nodded. he wasn't sure if she expected a response from him, but when she stopped speaking for a while, he felt something was necessary. Trust was a complicated subject. He wasn't sure he trusted anyone, not even himself, given the mess that was his memory. In a mission, he would follow Sam's instructions as a handler. He believed Sam would do well in that role, but was that the same as trusting him? He now believed that Steve was telling the truth about being the original Steve, the one the Hydra imposters had been trying to imitate for all those years, but did that count as trust? </p><p>He knew Steve was still hiding things from him. The way he had shaken his head at Nat at dinner when she'd tried to talk about people being upset with him, that was a sign that she knew things Steve didn't want Bucky to know, which meant that Steve had to know what they were too. Steve was also utterly dismissive of the feelings Bucky had remembered. How was Bucky supposed to trust Steve when clearly Steve didn't trust him? </p><p>Then there was the constant worry that something would cause these people to punish him, that he was doing things wrong or making the wrong choices and that they would hurt him for it. They told him over and over that he wasn't going to be punished but Bucky still waited for the pain. He couldn't trust that his future would be free of punishments because that just wasn't how the world worked. Not for him. </p><p>"What you've been through and I what I went through," Nat said, "it won't be the same in all the details. They didn't stick me in a chair the way they did with you. But still, there may be similarities in how it felt to get out of that situation. Figuring out how to be my own person was difficult and if any of my experiences can help you, I'm happy to tell you them." She gave a little smile. "Some of them anyway." </p><p>"You're not going to spill all your secrets to me?" He found himself smiling back for some reason. He wouldn't have believed her if she said she was going to tell him everything, but this was more plausible. He couldn't ignore the possibility of lies though, the chance that she was just saying what she was as part of a manipulation. </p><p>In some ways it felt like sparring, letting her make a few moves, watching and countering with a few of his own. Every word could be a feint and he had to stay on his toes, had to pay attention to spot the openings in them. </p><p>"Lesson number one," Nat said. "Keep a few secrets, things that you know that no one else does. Something they can't use against you. A thought. A memory. A desire. Hold it close and keep it for yourself. Holding onto that secret will help you feel like you've got control even when you can't control anything else." </p><p>Bucky had just given up his greatest secret and all it had earned him was Steve talking to him like he didn't know his own mind, dismissing truth as fiction. Just thinking about it made the anger burn in him again. </p><p>Other secret thoughts, like knowing that the Steves were liars, he had spilled since coming here. He would have to work to find something else to hold close. </p><p>Assuming Nat wasn't telling him this to get him in trouble for hiding things from his handlers. She might have been telling him this lesson because if he followed it then he might get punished for doing so. Or even if he didn't get punished, because everyone kept telling him he wouldn't, she might still think he would because maybe she didn't know the rules around here either. He couldn't just take her at her word on this. </p><p>But he could find out more. More information would be helpful in deciding if she was being helpful or duplicitous. </p><p>"What's your second lesson?" he asked. </p><p>"Watch how people act in situations where they have the power," she answered. "See how a commander treats a subordinate. See how they speak about someone they are hiring who depends on them for income. Pay attention to how they treat the helpless. There are people who will say all the right things about politics and needing to do the right thing, but then turn around and call the cops on some homeless person starving in the street because they don't see the person without power as being as deserving of dignity as them. You can learn a lot about how people really are by watching how they act when they have power over others. That can teach you who's worth following and who's worth trusting." </p><p>Bucky hadn't thought of it that way before, but he considered now, thinking about the way Alex had treated him. Alex had been the one with all the power. He had had absolute control over Bucky. </p><p>The memory of stinging slaps to the cheek came to him, not erased by the repeated wipes. He didn't know how often Alex had hit him, but it must have been often for him to know the heat of pain that came from those blows, to know it as a fact that Alex slapped him to get his attention or as a pre-cursor to punishment. Alex had power over Bucky and his method of treating him had involved hitting him for minor infractions, or even perceived infractions, and to order punishments for more severe ones. </p><p>Steve had power over Bucky now. He had never hit Bucky in all that time. He had worried about Bucky hurting himself in the gym, wanted to use his power to stop Bucky from feeling strain and all the aches that came with over-exertion. Steve had given him tasty food and made sure that the shower water wasn't going to burn him. </p><p>Then there were the others in the Tower. Sam talked to him about consent and organised a massage to help him feel more relaxed. Tony had told him to say something if the work on his arm had hurt because he'd wanted to ensure that Bucky didn't feel pain, and he'd been so angry to see the insides of the old arm and understand that Bucky had needed to be electrocuted to make it work. Bruce explained things carefully before each test and did what he could to make sure that Bucky was comfortable, and had shown him his favourite place in the Tower for the lesson on meditation. Clint had shared his favourite place in the Tower too, and then tried to take all of the blame when there was trouble about Bucky being there, and he had introduced him to the fun of the obstacle course. </p><p>All of them together had given him his own space in the Tower, given him fun things to do, let him eat chocolate as much as he liked. </p><p>They all had power over him and none of them had taken advantage of that. That was almost a problem because he wanted Steve and Steve had refused to touch him sexually for fear of taking advantage. </p><p>But even knowing all that, even knowing that Steve had been the original, the one Hydra had copied to control him, he couldn't let go of doubts. </p><p>"Short term actions could be a test or manipulation," Bucky said. "An operative can go undercover using a different persona to infiltrate an enemy group. The same principle can apply in other circumstances." </p><p>He almost expected Nat to argue with him, to tell him that these people weren't like that, to try and dismiss his fears. He hadn't even realised that was what he expected though until she nodded her agreement with him. </p><p>"True," she said. "A really good operative can go undercover for years as part of an infiltration operation, but the more people are involved in a conspiracy, the harder it becomes to keep it a secret. All it takes is one slip by one person and the whole thing comes crumbling down, and right now you're surrounded by people who are all telling you the same things. Is it possible that they're all lying to you? Yes. But is it likely? That's the question you have to ask yourself. And ask yourself why. What would be the point of them pretending to be nice to you? What would they hope to gain from it if it was all an act? If they want you for your skills, there would be other ways to get your loyalty and obedience, simpler ways. What could they possibly hope to gain by pretending to be your friend?" </p><p>"Is that a question you ask?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Not so much anymore. The longer you're out, the less you need to second-guess every interaction with another person. But when Clint first brought me to SHIELD, I was watching everything he said or did, looking for that trap. I was certain he was playing me and I spent a long time trying to figure out what his ploy was." </p><p>"When did you stop?" </p><p>"It wasn't any one action. It wasn't some big act that made me decide to trust him - I think I would have been more distrustful if it had been like that because anyone can pretend for one brief moment - it was a million little things over the course of months. Eventually I realised that the person he appeared to be and the person he really was were one and the same. I think what finally tipped the balance was watching him trip and spill an entire pot of coffee down his front and just look at the pot like it had personally betrayed him. I realised that if he was going to put on an act, he wouldn't have pretended to be this Clint." </p><p>She smiled fondly at the memory, but Bucky couldn't forget that she was a Red Room operative. If anyone knew about long term infiltration and deep cover, it would be her. It was entirely possible that what she said was an act. It was also possible that every word was true but was still part of a deeper manipulation, because a good operative knew how to use the truth in service of lies. However convincing she seemed, he couldn't forget what she was. </p><p>"Lesson number three," she told him, "trust takes time. I get it if you don't trust me and it's okay if you don't trust any of the others yet. Even when you start to trust, you might have moments of doubt, moments when you second-guess your own conclusions, and that's fine. It's a slow process, and whether it takes months or years doesn't matter. Even if your circle of trust stays to one or two people and everyone else is a figure of deep suspicion, that's fine. You'll eventually get to a point where you have enough trust to live your life without constantly waiting for the next attack. It's nice when that happens." </p><p>Bucky nodded, unsure of how to respond to that, but he wasn't sure he would ever reach that state she was describing. He wasn't sure he wanted to. If he did achieve a state where he wasn't on guard for an attack, that seemed like a massive danger. She might think trust could be a good thing, but distrust was safer. He would cling to that. </p><p>But he could still watch the way she advised. He could watch her and Steve and Sam and the others and see what he could decide from his observations. Even if he didn't trust Nat, there was value in her lessons.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky asked Tony about running the obstacle course with the drones. This was the increased difficulty setting he hadn't been allowed to try yet, but he had adapted to the moving obstacles and the elements that would cause a penalty if touched, including those that shifted colour in unpredictable ways to catch a runner out. He might keep shaving milliseconds off his time but there was no way to achieve a significant improvement in his score without either lowering the difficulty or increasing it and gaining the bonus points for taking out drones. </p><p>Each drone was a small, flying robot, no larger than the palm of his hand across. They would shoot stinging bolts of energy that would cause no serious injury but which would be noticeable if they hit. Each time a drone hit him there would be a penalty and each drone he could take out would give him a bonus. </p><p>Tony handed him the gun, shaped like a small pistol but without any ammunition. </p><p>"It's not a real gun," Tony explained, "so we've got agreement that it doesn't violate the conditions of your parole. Aim it at one of the drones and fire and, if your aim is good, the drone will register the hit. Graze it, and the drone will go inactive for five seconds. Bullseye and it will go inactive for ten seconds." </p><p>He pressed a switch on the example drone he'd brought with him to make it change colour. "Red and it's active and will shoot at you. Green it's safe and won't shoot. It turns amber the second before it goes live again. You can only shoot it when it's amber or red and it'll only move when it's red. So you can't just shoot it once and then stand there shooting it over and over and over again to get all the bonuses." </p><p>From the way he said that, Bucky suspected someone had attempted to rise to the top of the scoreboard by doing exactly that. </p><p>"Current settings for the course," Tony said, "we have one drone with a maximum firing rate of one shot every five seconds." </p><p>Bucky got ready by the entrance, up on his toes ready to run. As soon as the door opened, he was off, watching for the red patches on the floor and for movement in the air around him. He spotted the darting red thing off to his right, raised the gun, and fired without breaking his stride. He leapt at the net to climb over it as the little robot gave a cheerful beep and turned green. He jumped for the wall as had become his habit but paused at the top for a fraction for a second as the drone turned amber. He fired a single shot back and kept moving along the course without even looking to see if his shot had been true. The cheerful beep told him it had been. </p><p>He made it over the hurdles, avoiding touching any of the tops which now glowed red, and to the low tunnel. This would be more difficult. His body would form an impediment to a clear shot and it would be difficult to see the drone coming up behind him. Unlike previous runs, he dropped down and began crawling backwards. He was pleased with this decision a moment later when the red drone appeared in the entrance. He fired. </p><p>The next couple of sections went as previous runs had gone expect for having to shoot behind him a couple more times. He hesitated at the rope though. He needed his hands to climb and would only have a ten second window in which the drone would be unable to shoot at him. It was tight but it was his best option. Holding onto the rope one-handed while being shot at would not be pleasant. </p><p>So he waited until the drone turned amber, shot it again, and then shoved the gun into his mouth so that he could have both hands for the climb. He made it to the top just as the drone turned amber again and he could disable it with another shot. </p><p>The overhead net was another, similar obstacle. He sacrificed a second of time in order to shoot the drone before he began the crossing, swinging across the chasm with gun in his mouth. He knew that these tactics would only work with the current speed of the drone resetting. The way Tony had explained it implied that the length of time the drones took to go from safe to active could be varied and if the time was lowered to even eight or nine seconds, he wouldn't be able to complete these particular obstacles without the drone waking up. </p><p>For now though, he went with the tactic best suited to the situation as it was. He would worry about those narrower margins when he had to. </p><p>He made it through the rest of the course, shooting the drone the moment he could, before it could even fire a shot in his direction, and dodging around the moving, red obstacles which would incur a penalty if hit. </p><p>He burst through the door at the end after what was probably his slowest run of the course yet, but the bonuses for bullseye hits on the drone had cut a considerable amount from his score. According to the boards, he was now in fifth place behind Thor. He would not be able to improve his placing with this difficulty level. He might be able to shave a second or two of the actual time needed to complete the run now that he was prepared for the drone's presence, but he had got as large a bonus as was possible given the current settings. </p><p>"Please increase the difficulty," Bucky told Tony. </p><p>"You don't want to get used to it at this level first? Take a breather? Revel in your destroying my best record without looking like you were even trying? Seriously, I'm going to have to start making invisible drones or something just to make things tough enough for you and Legolas." </p><p>"Legolas?" </p><p>"Barton." </p><p>While Bucky thought that invisible drones would make an interesting challenge, there was another point which he felt deserved addressing first. "Why do you call people things that aren't their names?" </p><p>"It's a joke. Legolas is a character who shoots arrows a lot and Barton shoots arrows." </p><p>"And you called me Tin Man because I have an artificial arm?" </p><p>"Sure," Tony said, "let's go with that as the explanation for that one. It's just something I do. Don't worry about it." </p><p>"I don't worry about it. It doesn't matter what I'm called. The Asset, Soldier, Bucky... as long as I'm aware when something is address to me, it doesn't matter what label is used." </p><p>Tony stared at him for an uncomfortable length of time. "Okay, but that's not the same thing at all. A nickname isn't like being called a thing." </p><p>"It's a label used to refer to me." </p><p>"But that's... No. Tony Stark is a name. It's an identity. It's who I am. Iron Man is an identity. It's not just the suit and the repulsors, it's a part of who I am. 'Asset' is not that. 'Asset' is like someone calling you a tool. It's... God, I'm not the right person to try and explain this. Maybe the Red Menace will be able to explain it to you." </p><p>"Who is the Red Menace?" Bucky asked. </p><p>"Nat. Romanov. She picked her own name and has at least a dozen false identities she can flit through. If anyone knows the importance of a name, it'll be her." </p><p>Bucky nodded. He wasn't sure when he would next have a conversation with Nat, but he suspected there would be some, since she hadn't given him the rest of her list of lessons yet. Perhaps names were on that list. He remembered the way she had greeted him, asking him if he really was Bucky when he introduced himself. Perhaps that was related to what Tony was saying now. </p><p>"Anyway, did you want another run at the course?" Tony said. "Two drones this time, same timings and settings." </p><p>Bucky prepared himself in front of the door again as Tony adjusted the settings. </p><p>Two drones wasn't that much different from one. If he took both out at the same time, he could run it as before and the time it took him to fire two shots didn't slow him down significantly. The end result was that his score had jumped but a noticeable margin because his actual speed was much the same but he had twice the bonuses. He was close to knocking Steve down a place on a score board. </p><p>Tony just looked at him as he burst through the door and rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I suppose you want me to increase the difficulty again?" </p><p>This time, Tony reduced the rate at which the drones recovered and it actually proved challenging. Bucky couldn't complete the obstacles like the rope and the overhead net fast enough to time them to occur while the drones were inactive. He was forced to engage the drones in the middle of the obstacles, hanging onto the rope or the net by his metal hand while he fired with his flesh one. </p><p>Using his flesh hand to shoot while swaying over a chasm, one of his shots only grazed the drone instead of giving him a bullseye. Since the graze only caused half the inactive time, that would have meant the drones were out of sync, so he deliberately grazed another shot to get them to activate together again. As he reached the final run for the door, one of the drones actually got a shot off, but it's burst of energy struck harmlessly at the wall Bucky had just run past. </p><p>Bucky burst through the door only to find that Tony wasn't alone in the observation room anymore. Clint and Nat were there, sat across from the monitors. Nat had a bowl of popcorn on her lap. </p><p>"Tony told me you were trying to beat my record," Clint said. "We figured we'd come watch." </p><p>"I'm not trying to beat your record," Bucky said. "I'm trying to get the best score I can. If that happens to beat your record, that's incidental." </p><p>"Why do you want to get the best score you can?" Nat asked. </p><p>Bucky frowned. He didn't understand the question. "Doing well against the challenge is the point?" </p><p>"Leave him alone," Clint told her. "He's having fun." </p><p>"As long as it's fun," she said. </p><p>Bucky nodded. "The obstacle course is on the list of things that make me smile." </p><p>"That's good then." </p><p>Bucky turned to Tony, "Can you set the difficulty to the same as it was when Clint set his record?" </p><p>"Because it has nothing to do with beating my score, sure," Clint said. Tony was already adjusting the settings. </p><p>"Fine, masochist," Tony said. "Ten drones. Firing rate of five shots per second. Deactivation time of two seconds for a bullseye, one second for a graze. If you want to call a halt to it at any time, just yell 'stop' and JARVIS will shut down all the drones." </p><p>That last point surprised Bucky. None of the previous runs of the obstacle course had included an option to call a halt to the proceedings. That, more than Tony's description of him as a masochist, made his heart beat faster with anxiety. This might hurt. This might be too much for him. Tony was giving him a way out because he wasn't sure Bucky was capable of withstanding the challenge. All of that cause a rise in his background level of fear. </p><p>But that also filled him with a desire to prove Tony wrong. He wanted to see this through to show Tony what he was capable of. </p><p>He readied himself by the door and Tony began the countdown. </p><p>The next run was... challenging. The drones were a constant threat. No sooner had he shot the last of them than the first would start to reactivate. He had to keep the hand with the gun ready at all times, firing every second or two, meaning that he had to complete each obstacle with only one hand available. He also had to keep up a rapid pace because he couldn't shoot the drones fast enough to completely prevent them shooting at him and he had to move quickly to avoid those shots making contact. The drones fired at wherever he currently was and when he was moving more slowly, like attempting to climb a rope one-handed, that was enough for the shot to make contact. </p><p>The energy struck his leg with a burst of stinging pain, easily disregarded, but he was aware of the fifty point penalty for each hit. He couldn't afford to let it happen again if he wanted to beat Clint's score. </p><p>He had to switch his tactics for the overhead net, grabbing hold with one arm and swinging legs up, hooking his feet over the rope to proceed in an upside-down crawl. This made his progress slowly by a significant amount, but it left his arm free so that he could keep shooting at the drones. Once he made it back down to the lower level, he managed to avoid letting the drones get another shot off, but he accidentally put his foot on one of the red penalty squares that moved about the floor because his eyes were too busy watching out for the drones. </p><p>When he made it back to the observation room and looked at the scoreboard, he was behind Clint by half a minute. He frowned at the number next to his name. If he hadn't been hit by that drone, or if he'd managed three more bullseyes, he could have beaten Clint's score. This run had been the most challenging by far of every attempt at the obstacle course, but he knew he could do better. He could make the run faster now that he'd practiced the overhead net and he wasn't going to be caught by any of the penalty objects again. </p><p>"I'm going to try again," Bucky announced. </p><p>"Not today, you're not," Tony said. Bucky wondered if this was like Steve trying to stop him in the gym, worrying that he would pass his limits. </p><p>"I'm capable of continuing." </p><p>"Oh, I've no doubt about that, Terminator. You didn't even flinch when you got shot by the drone, but the rest of the team deserve to be here when you knock Clint from the top spot." </p><p>"What makes you so sure he's going to beat me?" Clint demanded. </p><p>"Were you not watching the same run I was? And everyone should get an opportunity to be here to share in his victory. We'll gather the team tomorrow and you can take another shot at destroying Clint's record then." He patted Bucky on the arm. </p><p>"Oh no," Clint said. "I'm not going to take this lying down. Where's my bow? I'm going to take another shot at my own record." He pointed a finger towards Bucky, acting like he was angry, but his lips kept twitching into a smile between his words. "I'm not going to make it easy on you." </p><p>"Good," Bucky said. "I look forward to defeating your best effort." </p><p>Over on the couch, Nat started laughing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One of the reasons I've been a bit quieter with posting fanfics is that I've had stuff going on with my original writing. I've had a short story accepted by a fantasy fiction podcast. I haven't got an exact air date for that yet, but it should be by the end of this year, maybe early next year. I'll post a link when that goes live. </p><p>I also have book news <a href="https://jessicameats.tumblr.com/post/634758136442535937/virtual-launch-party-echoes-of-never">over on my Tumblr</a>.</p>
        </blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25282219">Bucky Embraces Optimism...</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss">fannishliss</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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